THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

Professor 
William  C.  Putnam 
.,.  (1908-1963) 

PRESENTED  BY 

Professor 
Claude  Jones 


(Ztohtmbta  Htttnrrutitj 
STUDIES  IN  COMPARATIVE  LITERATURE 


COLUMBIA 

UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

SALES  AGENTS 

NEW  YORK : 

LEMCKE  &  BUECHNER 
30-32  WEST  27TH  STREET 

LONDON  : 

HENRY  FROWDE 
AMEN  CORNER,  E.G. 

TORONTO  : 

HENRY  FROWDE 
25  RICHMOND  STREET,  W. 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES 


IN 


ELIZABETHAN  PROSE  FICTION 


BY 


SAMUEL  LEE  WOLFF,  PH.D. 


THE  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 
1912 

All  ri-hts  retervtd 


Copyright,  1912 
BY  THE  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

Printed  from  type  January,  1913 


PRESS  or 

THE  New  ERA  PRINTING  COMPANT 
LANCASTER    PA. 


This  monograph  has  been  approved  by  the  Department  0} 
English  and  Comparative  Literature  in  Columbia  University  as 
a  contribution  to  knowledge  worthy  of  publication. 

A.  H.  THORNDIKE, 

Secretary. 


PREFACE 

The  subject  of  this  book  has  not,  as  far  as  I 
know,  been  treated  before.  Though  the  influence 
of  Greek  fiction  upon  the  fiction  of  the  Renais- 
sance has  been  noticed  at  some  length  by  Dunlop 
and  by  Professor  Warren;  and  though  Herr 
Brunhuber,  Herr  Oeftering,  and  Mr.  Moody 
have  observed  a  portion  of  Sidney's  indebtedness 
to  the  Greek  Romances;  yet  no  other  attempt 
has  been  made,  I  believe,  to  disengage  the  char- 
acteristics of  Greek  Romance  and  to  trace  them 
into  English  fiction  of  any  period.  The  present 
attempt  results  in  the  discovery  of  a  distinct  vein 
of  influence  in  Elizabethan  literature,  and  in 
some  interesting  specific  discoveries :  viz.,  that 
Heliodorus  and  Longus  are  respectively  a  sec- 
ondary and  a  primary  source  of  Shakespeare; 
that  Lyly's  "  Euphues  "  probably  occupies  a  place 
in  a  long  tradition  that  goes  back  to  Greek 
Romance ;  and  that  both  Sidney  and  Greene  were 
steeped  in  the  matter  and  the  style  of  Greek  fic- 
tion. The  further  discovery  that  Sidney  went 
so  far  as  to  remodel  his  "Arcadia"  upon  the 
pattern  of  Heliodorus's  narrative  structure  would 
have  been  impossible  but  for  Mr.  Dobell's  find 
of  manuscripts  of  the  "Old  Arcadia."  To  all 
my  known  predecessors  I  make  grateful  acknowl- 
edgment, both  here  and  in  the  text. 

The  present  study  has  been  confined  to  the  five 
chief  writers  of  Elizabethan  fiction, — Lyly,  Sid- 
ney, Greene,  Nash,  and  Lodge.  Minor  writers 
like  Sanford  and  Warner,  even  when  known  to 
vti 


vitl 


have  used  the  Greek  Romances,  have  received 
only  passing  mention;  nor  has  the  Catalogue  of 
the  British  Museum  been  searched  for  titles  sug- 
gestive of  Greek  Romance.  My  bibliography, 
thus,  does  not  profess  to  be  complete;  it  was  com- 
piled upon  a  frankly  utilitarian  basis,  and  con- 
tains very  few  titles  not  actually  referred  to  in 
the  book.  With  the  same  design  of  usefulness 
to  the  reader,  the  Index  has  been  made  rather  full. 

I  am  under  obligations  to  the  authorities  of 
the  Libraries  of  Columbia,  Harvard,  Princeton, 
and  the  University  of  Michigan,  for  many  cour- 
tesies. To  the  owner  of  the  "  Clifford "  and 
"Ashburnham"  Manuscripts  of  the  "Old  Ar- 
cadia," who  prefers  to  remain  unnamed,  and  to 
Mr.  A.  T.  Porter  of  London,  both  of  whom 
most  kindly  allowed  me  the  free  use  of  their 
property,  my  special  acknowledgments  are  due. 
My  friend  Dr.  S.  M.  Tucker,  Professor  of  Eng- 
lish at  the  Brooklyn  Polytechnic  Institute,  gave 
me  indispensable  assistance  in  seeing  this  book 
through  the  press.  To  Professor  A.  H.  Thorn- 
dike,  of  Columbia  University,  I  am  obliged  for 
many  excellent  suggestions. 

Professor  Woodberry  was  "  the  onlie  begetter  " 
of  the  studies  which  have  at  last  issued  in  this 
book ;  and  my  indebtedness  to  him  is  greater  than 
I  can  express  or  he  would  own.  Professor  J.  B. 
Fletcher,  of  Columbia  University,  has  given 
freely  his  valuable  advice  and  criticism,  as  well 
as  a  personal  interest  and  encouragement  without 
which  my  work,  however  auspiciously  begun, 
would  hardly  have  been  completed. 

NEW  YORK,  November  15,  1911. 


CONTENTS 

PART  ONE 
THE  GREEK  ROMANCES 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Introductory:      General      Characteristics; 

Chronology ;  Analyses   I 

II.  Plot,  Character  (Humor),  Setting;  Struc- 
ture, Style  in 

INTERCHAPTER 237 

PART  TWO 
ELIZABETHAN  PROSE  FICTION 

I.  John  Lyly  248 

II.  Sir  Philip  Sidney 262 

III.  Robert  Greene  367 

IV.  Thomas  Nash  and  Thomas  Lodge 459 

CONCLUSION 461 

APPENDIX  A.  Textual  notes  on  the  relation  be- 
tween Day's  and  Amyot's  ver- 
sions of  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe  "  465 

APPENDIX  B.  Notes  and  transcripts:  "Clifford" 

Ms.  of  Sidney's  "  Arcadia  "...  470 

APPENDIX  C.  Bibliographical  Notes  on  William 
Burton's  translation  of  Achilles 
Tatius  477 

BIBLIOGRAPHY    483 

INDEX    506 


THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN  ELIZA- 
BETHAN PROSE  FICTION 


PART   ONE 

THE  GREEK  ROMANCES 


CHAPTER   I 
INTRODUCTORY 

GENERAL   CHARACTERISTICS  ;    CHRONOLOGY  ; 
ANALYSES 

The  present  study  assumes  the  existence  of  the 
Greek  Romances,  and  looks  forward  in  time  to 
their  influence  upon  Elizabethan  prose  fiction.  It 
is  therefore  concerned  with  their  origin  or  evolu- 
tion only  in  as  far  as  these  may  help  to  char- 
acterize the  Greek  Romances  themselves.  It 
makes  no  attempt  to  identify  the  borrowings  of 
Achilles  Tatius  from  Plutarch  or  from  Aristotle, 
from  Aelian  or  from  Ovid ;  it  cares  not  whether 
Heliodorus  lived  before  or  after  Xenophon  of 
Ephesus,  or  which  of  the  two  imitated  the  other ; 
and  it  waives  the  question  whether  the  Greek 
Romances  are  an  outcome  of  Greek  historiog- 
raphy or  teratology,  or  of  Alexandrian  erotic 
poetry,  or  of  the  Ionic  novella,  or  of  Oriental 


2  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

fiction,  or  of  all.  It  is  content  with  the  certainty 
that  all  the  Greek  Romances  were  earlier  than 
the  writers  of  Elizabethan  fiction,  and  that  cer- 
tain Greek  Romances  were  known  to  these 
writers.  The  table  on  pages  8-10  will  show 
concisely  what  Romances  were  accessible  to  per- 
sons who  wrote  prose  fiction  during  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign  (1558-1603).  It  is  with  the 
chief  of  these  writers,  and  with  those  Romances 
which  are  found  to  have  influenced  them,  that 
the  present  study  has  to  do. 

The  long  and  elaborate  form  of  Greek  prose 
fiction  known  as  the  Romance  was  a  late  and 
puny  child  of  the  Hellenic  imagination.  It  came 
into  being  during  the  decline  of  Greek  literature, 
and  found  a  place  there  only  after  the  greater 
genres — epic,  lyric,  drama,  oration — were  dead. 
It  rose,  too,  after  the  destruction  of  Greek 
nationality,  and  was  not  inspired,  as  were  the 
earlier  genres,  by  a  broad  communal  tradition  of 
religion,  myth,  morals,  and  polity.  So  it  was  at 
once  individualistic — the  work  of  writers  ex- 
pressing their  own  fancies  rather  than  the  com- 
mon imaginative  fund  of  the  Hellenic  race;  and 
cosmopolitan — the  work,  often,  of  writers 
actually  not  Greek,  but  African  or  Asiatic, — 
writers  from  Pergamon,  or  Antioch,  or  Alex- 
andria. 

It  came,  moreover,  after  the  schools  of  Alex- 
andria had  given  their  decisive  ply  to  the  litera- 
ture that  was  to  follow.  The  Alexandrian, 
whether  artist  or  critic,  emphasized  the  pictur- 
esque, the  rhetorical,  the  fanciful,  elements  in 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  3 

both  life  and  letters.  He  was  interested  rather 
in  diversity  than  in  unity,  and  cared  more  for  a 
series  of  idylls  or  word-pictures  than  for  an 
extensive  single  sustained  act  of  creative  imagi- 
nation. Theocritus  (VII.  45-8)  and  Calli- 
machus  (Epigram  30;  Hymn  to  Apollo,  105  ff.), 
Alexandrians  both,  agree  for  instance  in  depre- 
cating the  production  of  long  epic  poems;  and 
Apollonius  Rhodius,  who  so  offended  his  master 
Callimachus  by  writing  one,  is  held  to  have 
justified  in  that  very  act  the  opinion  of  Cal- 
limachus that  the  day  of  the  epic  was  past.2  In 
fact,  the  Alexandrian  liked  the  parts  better  than 
the  whole,  and  lingered  to  elaborate  whatever 
pleased.  Admitting  everything  that  would  enter- 
tain, he  allowed  episode,  digression,  irrelevancy, 
to  withdraw  attention  from  the  principal  theme. 
Life  itself  would  move  before  him  not  as  a 
whole,  made  one  by  law,  physical  or  moral,  but 
as  a  series  of  spectacles  and  emotions — "  for  to 
admire  and  for  to  see."  In  the  physical  world  as 
interpreted  by  him,  event  does  not  produce  event ; 
the  bond  of  causation  is  loosed,  and  the  door 

2  See  Couat,  "  La  Querelle  de  Callimaque  et  d'Apollonius 
de  Rhodes,"  in  Annuaire.  de  I' Association  pour  I'Encourage- 
ment  des  Etudes  Grecques,  vol.  n  (1877),  p.  103  (a  paper 
embodied  with  some  changes  in  the  last  chapter  of  his 
"  La  Poesie  Alexandrine  ")  ;  Susemihl,  "  Geschichte  der 
Griechischen  Litteratur  in  der  Alexandrinerzeit,"  I.  169,  208, 
3So,  353!  384-  "Die  meisten  alexandrinischen  Dichter  ver- 
schrankten  sich  mit  richtigem  Gefuhl  auf  Dichtungen  von 
geringem  Umfang,  und  hier  gelang  es  ihnen  wirklich  noch 
manches  Neue  und  acht  Poetische  zu  schaffen,  namentlich 
in  der  Schilderung  individuellen  Seelenlebens,  in  der  anmu- 
tigen  Darstellung  zarter,  sentimentaler  und  leidenschaft- 
licher  Empfindungen."  (Susemihl  I.  169.) 


4  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

opened  to  chance.3  In  his  moral  world,  the 
choices  and  decisions  of  life — hardly  realized  as 
choices  or  decisions  at  all — are  lightly  made,  un- 
deliberated,  often  unmotived.  Between  the  two 
worlds,  inner  and  outer,  there  is  no  vital  inter- 
action: human  character  does  not  affect  human 
destiny,  indeed  scarcely  affects  environment;  nor 
on  the  other  hand  do  conduct  and  environment 
react  upon  and  develop  character.  Sentiment, 
the  inward  working  of  emotion,  does  not  issue  in 
action,  and  so  becomes  mere  sentimentality,  to  be 
lingered  over,  sipped,  and  degusted,  for  its  own 
sake.  And  in  the  "world  of  description/'  the 
movements  and  the  sounds  and  shows  of  things — 
alien  to  the  nature  of  conduct,  and  not  human- 
ized, like  the  classical  "  setting "  or  "  back- 
ground," by  the  uses  of  man — these  too  are 
lingered  over  for  their  own  sake,  because  they 
are  picturesque,  and  take  the  sense  with  im- 
mediate pleasure.  The  absence  of  unifying  in- 
teraction between  the  mental  and  the  physical 
order  has  left  the  Alexandrian  either  engrossed 
in  sentiment  out  of  all  contact  with  reality,  or 
sunk  in  matter  unspiritualized. 

As  the  links  of  Cause  are  broken,  and  Fortune 
takes  direction  of  the  affairs  of  men,  events 
are  no  longer  calculable,  as  they  had  been  in  any 
imaginative  work  based,  like  the  Attic  drama  for 
example,  upon  the  ancient  myths,  and  exhibiting 
"  the  laws  of  the  gods " ;  indeed,  their  interest 

8  A  far  cry  from  Anaxagoras's  strictly  classical  and  sci- 
entific view  that  what  we  call  "  chance  "  is  causation  as  yet 
unknown:  air  la  ivBpunrlvtf  \oyiff /j$  &dr)\os.  (Diels,  "  Frag- 
mente,"  I.  306,  Frag.  66.) 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE  FICTION  5 

comes  to  lie  in  their  very  incalculableness.4  The 
reader's  pleasure  no  longer  consists  in  seeing 
law  work  itself  inexorably  out,  but  in  being  sur- 
prised, shocked,  made  to  "sit  up,"  by  the  unex- 
pectedness, the  queerness  of  the  turns  things  take. 
The  paradoxical,  the  bizarre,  the  inconsistent,  the 
self-contradictory — these  were  stock  in  trade 
with  the  writers  of  Greek  Romance. 

When  it  is  remembered,  too,  that  these  writers 
were  professional  rhetoricians,  their  hunger  for 
paradox  is  seen  to  assume  quite  naturally  a 
second  phase: — it  becomes  a  sophisticated  chase 
after  contrasts.  The  Greek  Romances  fairly 
bristle  with  pointed  sentences  turning  over  ad 
nauseam  some  shallow  "  conceited "  antitheton. 
And  such  writers,  one  may  be  sure,  were  not 
too  much  occupied  with  ideas  to  neglect  allitera- 
tion of  words,  parallelism  and  balance  of  the 
members  of  the  sentence,  and  many  another  aid 
to  antithesis. 

Few  professional  artists  in  language,  again, 
can  resist  their  tendency  toward  a  conscious  dis- 
play of  their  art.  Given  a  world  of  senti- 
mentality, the  sophist  will  expatiate  upon  the 
"  psychology  "  of  it,  and  tell  his  reader  just  how 
a  certain  person  felt  upon  a  given  occasion,  and 
why  he  wept,  or  was  speechless ;  or  he  will  let  the 
person  himself,  by  means  of  soliloquy  or  tirade 

4  Aristotle  (Poet.  IX.  11-12)  recognizes  the  value  of  both 
these  elements :  that  event,  he  says,  is  most  effective,  which 
is  unlocked  for,  but  at  the  same  time  strictly  caused.  The 
Greek  Romances,  in  neglecting  the  second  element,  give 
undue  force  to  the  first.  In  fact,  the  "  Poetics,"  chs.  VIII 
and  IX  (on  Plot),  and  VI  and  XV  (on  Character),  constitute 
by  anticipation  the  most  concise  and  trenchant  possible 
criticism  of  the  Greek  Romances. 


6  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

or  letter  or  lamentation,  set  forth  the  conflict  of 
his  own  feelings.  Given  a  world  of  sound  and 
show,  the  same  sophist  will  make  it  the  subject 
of  a  rhetorical  set-piece;  will  insert  (relevant  or 
irrelevant,  what  matter?)  long  word-paintings, 
tours  de  force  of  descriptive  writing;  or  he  may 
go  so  far  as  to  envisage  the  whole  course  of  his 
plot  as  a  succession  of  pictures.8  Himself  a 
talker  by  trade,  he  will  rejoice  in  great  talking- 
matches,  such  as  grow  out  of  trials  at  law;  and 
will  give  the  speeches  in  full.  He  will  now  and 
again  enliven  his  page  with  a  debat  or  dubbio, 
and  show  what  can  be  said  on  each  side  of  some 
question  in  aesthetics  or  love. 

The  Greek  Romances  abound  in  such  irrelevant 
or  episodic  matter:  glittering  disputations,  or 
antithetical  letters  and  monologues ;  set-pieces  of 
rhetorical  pyrotechny;  descriptions  of  paintings, 
statues,  jewels,  utensils,  gardens  and  the  like; 
narratives  of  local  mythology,  tales  of  marvellous 
beasts — puerile  accounts  of  the  phoenix  and  his 
pious  son,  of  the  elephant's  sweet  breath,  and  the 
terrifying  aspect  of  the  giraffe — with  much  other 
"unnatural  natural  history."  Plot  and  char- 
acter, minimized  and  often  eclipsed  by  such  di- 
gressions and  episodes,  fall  far  too  much  under 
the  control,  respectively,  of  Fortune  and  of  senti- 
mentality, which  are  in  their  turn  frequently 
made  the  subject  of  lengthy  tirades — Fortune 
railed  upon  in  good  set  terms,  sentimentality 
analyzed  to  death  by  means  of  a  shallow  and 
distorted  "  psychology." 

8  Cf.  Andrew  Lang :  "  Theocritus  and  his  Age,"  pp. 
xxxvii,  ff. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  ^ 

It  is  not  here  asserted  that  the  schools  of 
Alexandria  originated  any  of  the  tendencies  that 
are  found  in  such  exaggerated  form  in  the  Greek 
Romances.  Pictorial  description  or  word-paint- 
ing appears  as  early  as  the  Shield  of  Achilles, 
and  has  a  long  and  honorable  life  in  Greek 
poetry;  "the  unexpected"  we  have  seen  recog- 
nized by  Aristotle;  rhetorical  antithesis  was  the 
gist  of  the  teaching  of  the  early  sophist  Gorgias ; 
puerile  marvels  are  not  wanting  in  Herodotus. 
What  is  asserted  is  that  Alexandria  fostered  all 
these  tendencies  together  as  they  had  never  been 
fostered  before,  and  that  she  transmitted  them 
to  those  later  schools  which  produced  the 
Greek  Romance.  Furthermore,  and  this  is  the 
main  point,  these  tendencies  are,  in  the  Greek 
Romance,  not  just  combined  mechanically;  the 
combination  rests  upon  a  new  and  unclassic  view 
of  life,  and  hence  of  literature — a  view  which 
would  have  been  abhorrent  to  Homer,  Aristotle, 
and  Herodotus,  and  even  to  Gorgias. 

The  foregoing  sketch — an  attempt  at  a  general 
characterization  of  the  Greek  Romance,  may 
serve  to  introduce  analyses  of  the  three  chief 
specimens  of  the  genre:  "  The  ^Ethiopica,"  or 
"Theagenes  and  Chariclea,"  by  Heliodorus; 
"Clitophon  and  Leucippe,"  by  Achilles  Tatius, 
and  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe,"  attributed  to  Longus ; 
the  only  extant  Greek  Romances  which  are  found 
to  have  exercised  any  influence  upon  Elizabethan 
prose  fiction.  Upon  these  analyses  a  more  ex- 
tensive critical  discussion  will  be  based. 


THE  GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 


First  printed,  translated,  etc. 

1893  (Hermes,  Vol.  XXVIII). 

Photius:  "Bibliotheca"  (166). 
Ed.  princ.  1601. 

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ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION 


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THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  II 


HELIODORUS  : 
,  OR  THEAGENES  AND  CHARicLEA5a 

A.  The  daughter  of  Hydaspes  and  Persina, 
King  and  Queen  of  Ethiopia,  was  born  white 
(IV.  viii),  her  mother  at  the  moment  of  concep- 
tion having  gazed  intently  upon  a  painting  of 
white  Andromeda.  Persina,  fearing  lest  this  ex- 
planation should  not  satisfy  the  jealousy  of  her 
husband,  exposed  the  child,  who  was  saved  (II. 
xxxi)  by  Sisimithres,  an  Ethiopian  nobleman  and 
gymnosophist,  forbidden  by  his  philosophical 
tenets  to  abandon  any  living  thing.  "With  the 
child  he  found  and  preserved  a  ring  and  other 
jewels  (IV.  viii),  as  well  as  fillets  upon  which 
were  inscribed  the  reasons  for  her  exposure.  He 
had  her  reared  by  shepherds. 

When  she  was  seven  years  old  (II.  xxx,  xxxi) 
he  took  her  with  him  to  Catadupi  —  the  Cataracts 
of  the  Nile  —  upon  an  embassy  committed  to  him 
by  Hydaspes.  Oroondates,  Viceroy  of  Egypt 
under  the  Great  King,  was  disputing  with 
Hydaspes  the  title  to  the  City  of  Philae  and  to 
the  emerald  mines  near  it  on  the  border  between 
Egypt  and  Ethiopia.  Sisimithres,  perhaps  fear- 
ing the  consequences  to  himself  and  his  ward 
of  the  uncompromising  claims  he  must  make  on 
behalf  of  Hydaspes,  entrusted  the  child,  with  her 

8*  A,  B,  etc.,  designate  portions  of  the  story  for  con- 
venience in  referring  to  them  as  wholes.  Roman  numerals 
designate  book  and  chapter  of  the  original  text. 


12  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

jewels  and  tokens,  to  one  Charicles,  a  priest  of 
Apollo.  As  Charicles  had  recently  lost  his  own 
wife  and  daughter  (II.  xxix),  he  had  left  Delphi 
to  seek  consolation  in  travel,  and  now  happened 
to  be  at  Catadupi.  He  accepted  the  charge  (II. 
xxxii).  Sisimithres's  prudence  was  justified  by 
the  event,  for  Oroondates  ordered  him  out  of 
Catadupi  at  once  on  pain  of  death.  [We  hear 
no  more  of  him  till  the  very  end  of  the  story.] 
With  Charicles  the  child  returned  to  Delphi,  re- 
ceived the  name  Chariclea,  and  herself  became  a 
priestess  of  Diana  (II.  xxxiii). 

B.  (a)  When  Chariclea  had  arrived  at  mar- 
riageable age,  there  came  to  Delphi  two  persons — 
the  Memphian  Calasiris,  a  priest  of  Isis  (II. 
xxvi),  and  Theagenes  a  Thessalian,  a  descendant 
of  Achilles  (II.  xxxiv).  Calasiris  in  his  temple 
had  been  tempted  by  the  charms  of  Rhodopis  a 
courtesan  (II.  xxv),  and  wished  to  fly  from  the 
temptation;  moreover,  having  divined  that  there 
would  be  a  deadly  combat  between  his  sons,  he 
wished  to  avoid  the  fulfilment  of  the  prediction; 
and,  finally,  he  deemed  Delphi  an  appropriate 
place  of  retirement  for  one  of  his  priestly  caste 
(II.  xxvi).  Theagenes  had  come  to  celebrate 
memorial  rites  (II.  xxxiv)  in  honor  of  his  an- 
cestor Pyrrhus,  the  son  of  Achilles.  Having 
made  friends  with  Calasiris,  Charicles  partly  told 
him,  and  partly  by  showing  him  Chariclea's 
tokens  enabled  him  to  discover  for  himself  (IV. 
viii),  the  story  given  in  A.  Further,  he  re- 
quested the  wise  Egyptian's  aid  (II.  xxxiii)  in 
persuading  Chariclea  to  take  a  husband — prefer- 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  1 3 

ably  Charicles's  nephew  Alcamenes.  But  The- 
agenes  and  Chariclea  had  seen  each  other  at  the 
games  and  ceremonies,  and  had  already  fallen  in 
love  with  each  other  (III.  v;  IV.  i-iv).  Each 
now  confided  in  Calasiris  (III.  xvii;  IV.  iv,  v, 
x-xiii)  ;  and  an  oracle  (II.  xxxv)  and  several 
dreams  and  divine  voices  (III.  xi;  IV.  xiv,  xvi) 
predicted  their  ultimate  union,  and  sanctioned 
their  immediate  flight  under  his  protection. 
While  Chariclea  therefore  upon  his  advice  (IV. 
xiii)  feigned  consent  to  her  marriage  with  Alca- 
menes, Calasiris  took  passage  for  the  three  (IV. 
xvi)  with  some  Phoenician  mariners  who 
chanced  to  be  sailing  from  Delphi  to  Carthage. 
Under  his  instructions  Theagenes  abducted 
Chariclea,  and  joined  Calasiris  (IV.  xvii-xviii), 
who  put  the  pursuers  on  a  false  scent  (IV.  xix). 
The  three  sailed  away  together  (V.  i).  The 
lovers  agreed  (IV.  xviii)  to  remain  virgin  till 
their  nuptials  could  be  formally  celebrated,  and 
meanwhile  gave  themselves  out  as  brother  and 
sister,  and  Calasiris  as  their  father  (V.  xxvi). 

B.  (b)  The  captain  of  the  Phoenician  vessel 
became  enamored  of  Chariclea  (V.  xix),  and 
both  she  and  Calasiris  deemed  it  best  to  feign 
consent  to  the  marriage,  postponing  it,  however, 
till  their  arrival  at  Memphis  (V.  xx).  The  ship 
wintering  at  Zacynthus  (V.  xviii),  our  trio 
lodged  with  Tyrrhenus  a  fisherman.  Though  so 
near  Ithaca,  they  neglected  to  pay  their  respects 
to  Odysseus,  whose  offended  shade  appeared  in  a 
vision  (V.  xxii)  to  threaten  Calasiris.  Trach- 
inus,  a  pirate  of  the  neighborhood,  desired  both 


14  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Chariclea  and  the  richly  laden  ship,  and  confided 
to  Tyrrhenus  his  plan  of  attack  (V.  xx).  Tyr- 
rhenus  warned  his  guests,  who  at  once  re-em- 
barked (V.  xxi-xxii).  Nevertheless  Trachinus 
overtook  them,  seized  the  vessel  with  its  freight, 
and  allowing  the  Tyrian  captain  and  his  crew  to 
depart  in  the  boats,  kept  our  trio  prisoners  (V. 
xxiv-xxvi).  Upon  his  offering  marriage  to 
Chariclea,  she  again  dissembled.  A  storm  drove 
them  to  the  Heracleotic  mouth  of  the  Nile,  where 
they  landed,  and  Trachinus  prepared  for  an  im- 
mediate wedding  (V.  xxvii-xxix)  ;  whereupon 
Calasiris  devised  a  stratagem.  He  persuaded 
Pelorus,  Trachinus's  lieutenant,  that  Chariclea 
loved  him  (V.  xxx),  and  inflamed  him  with  the 
sight  of  her  in  bridal  array,  so  that  Pelorus  dis- 
puted with  his  captain  the  distribution  of  the 
booty,  and,  as  the  first  to  board  the  captured  ship, 
claimed  Chariclea  for  himself  (V.  xxxi).  The 
feast  turning  into  a  fight,  most  of  the  pirates, 
including  Trachinus,  were  killed;  Pelorus  in  a 
hand-to-hand  combat  with  Theagenes  was  sorely 
wounded  and  put  to  flight;  and  Calasiris  was 
separated  from  Theagenes  and  Chariclea,  who 
remained  together  on  the  shore  (V.  xxxii- 
xxxiii). 

[Here  the  story  opens,  in  mediis  rebus.] 

C.  (I.    i-iii)      While    Chariclea   tended   the 
wounds  of  Theagenes,  there  supervened  a  small 
band  of  Egyption  robbers,  who  seized  the  pair. 
Very   soon,   however,   a   larger  band   came  up, 
under  the  command  of  one  Thyamis. 

D.  (I.  xix;  VII.  ii)  Thyamis  was  the  eldest 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  1 5 

son  of  Calasiris.  Shortly  after  Calasiris's  de- 
parture from  Memphis,  Arsace,  sister  of  the 
Great  King  and  wife  of  Oroondates,  had  become 
enamored  of  Thyamis.  She  solicited  him,  but  he 
resisted.  His  younger  brother  Petosiris,  desiring 
to  succeed  instead  of  Thyamis  to  the  priestly 
office  of  his  father,  traduced  Thyamis  to  Oroon- 
dates, who  banished  him  from  Memphis.  Thya- 
mis had  become  chief  of  the  bandits  known  as 
"  Herdsmen." 

E.  He   now  took  Theagenes  and  Chariclea 
from  their  first  captors,  conducted  them  to  his 
retreat  among  the  marshes  of  the  Delta,  treated 
them    honorably    (I.    v-vii),    and    proposed    to 
marry  Chariclea,  who  again  feigned  consent  (I. 
xix-xxvi).     Their  captivity  was  lightened  by  the 
companionship  of   Cnemon,   a  young  Athenian, 
who  spent  the  night  in  telling  them  F  (a). 

F.  (a)    (I.  ix-xvii)  Cnemon  was  the  son  of 
Aristippus,  who  took  Demaeneta  as  his  second 
wife.     Enamored   of  her  stepson,   she   solicited 
him,  and  upon  his  refusal,  plotted  to  ruin  him. 
First   she    feigned    illness    and    falsely    accused 
Cnemon  of  kicking  her :  thus  she  had  him  beaten 
by  his   father.     Then  she  made  her  slave  girl 
Thisbe  gain  his  affection  and  confidence,  and  per- 
suade him  to  believe  that  Demaeneta  had  a  para- 
mour who  was  to  visit  her  on  a  certain  night. 
Cnemon  with  drawn  sword  broke  into  the  cham- 
ber and  confronted — his   father.     Aristippus  in 
the  belief  that  his  son  had  attempted  parricide 
accused  him  to  the  Assembly,  which  banished 
him.    The   love-sick   Demaeneta   thereupon   re- 


1 6  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

lented;  and  desiring  his  return  bitterly  blamed 
Thisbe  for  having  been  but  too  compliant.  In 
fear  for  herself,  Thisbe  determined  to  entrap  her 
mistress.  Cnemon,  she  said,  was  not  abroad,  but 
hiding  in  the  outskirts  of  Athens,  where  he  kept 
a  slave-girl  Arsinoe,  a  friend  of  Thisbe's:  De- 
maeneta, if  she  would,  might  in  the  dark  take 
this  girl's  place.  Demaeneta  consented  to  the 
assignation,  and  Thisbe  actually  procured  from 
Arsinoe  the  use  of  her  house.  Meanwhile  Thisbe 
told  Aristippus  that  at  Arsinoe's  house  Demae- 
neta was  to  meet  a  paramour.  Aristippus  broke 
in  and  caught  his  wife,  Thisbe  slamming  a  door 
and  pretending  that  the  lover  had  escaped. 
Demaeneta,  on  the  way  back  to  Athens  in  the 
custody  of  her  husband,  threw  herself  into  a  pit 
and  ended  her  life.  Aristippus  reported  all  to 
the  Assembly,  which  barely  exonerated  him. 

F.  (b)  (II.  viii-ix)  Now  it  happened  that 
Thisbe  ousted  Arsinoe  from  the  affections  of  one 
Nausicles,  a  merchant,  and  Arsinoe  in  her 
jealousy  revealed  her  rival's  stratagem  to  De- 
maeneta's  relatives.  They  brought  the  matter 
again  before  the  Assembly,  which  found  that  De- 
maeneta was  innocent,  and  that,  as  Aristippus 
had  been  instrumental  in  procuring  her  death,  he 
must  be  banished  and  his  goods  confiscated. 
The  witness  he  needed  to  clear  him,  Thisbe,  was 
absent,  having  gone  abroad  with  Nausicles. 

F.  (c)  (VI.  ii)  These  facts  came  to  the 
knowledge  of  Cnemon,  who,  faithful  to  his 
father,  set  out  in  search  of  Thisbe  in  order  to 
reinstate  him.  Cnemon  was  captured  by  pirates, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  1 7 

but  escaped,  and  made  his  way  to  Egypt,  where 
he  was  taken  prisoner  by  Thyamis. 

G.  That  night  Thyamis  dreamed  (I.  xviii) 
that  Isis  in  her  temple  appeared  to  him  and  said, 
"  I  deliver  this  maiden  to  you,  but  though  you 
have  her  you  shall  not  have  her,  but  shall  kill 
your  guest;  yet  she  shall  not  be  killed."  This 
dream  he  interpreted  to  suit  his  wishes.  The 
next  day  (I.  xxvii-xxx)  he  was  suddenly  at- 
tacked by  the  robbers  who  had  first  seized  The- 
agenes  and  Chariclea,  and  who  had  meanwhile 
gathered  reinforcements.  For  safety  he  made 
Cnemon  place  Chariclea  in  the  cave  where  he 
kept  his  treasure.  Desperately  pressed  by  his 
enemies,  and  determined  that  no  one  else  should 
have  her,  he  entered  the  cave,  and  in  the  dark 
stabbed  a  woman  whom  he  took  to  be  Chariclea. 

H.  This  woman  was  really  Thisbe  (II.  xiv). 
On  her  travels  with  Nausicles  she  had  been  cap- 
tured by  Thermuthis,  the  lieutenant  of  Thyamis, 
and,  like  Chariclea,  had  been  placed  in  the  cave. 
When  Cnemon  and  Theagenes  rejoined  Chari- 
clea there,  they  found  on  Thisbe's  body  (II.  vi) 
a  letter  written  by  her  to  Cnemon,  whom  she  had 
seen  to  be  a  fellow-captive, — protesting  (II.  x) 
the  genuineness  of  her  love  for  him  despite  her 
treachery,  and  imploring  him  to  save  her  from 
her  barbarous  lover.  Cnemon  thereupon  told 
F  (fe)  (II.  viii-ix).  That  night  (II.  xvi)  Chari- 
clea dreamed  that  a  ruffian  gouged  out  her  right 
eye :  a  dream  interpreted  by  Cnemon  as  portend- 
ing the  death  of  her  father. 

K.     (I.  xxxiii)  Thyamis  was  taken  alive  by 


1 8  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

his  enemies,  who  designed  to  deliver  him  to  his 
brother  at  Memphis  for  the  sake  of  reward. 
This  reward  Petosiris  had  offered  in  order 
both  to  get  Thyamis  back  into  his  power  and  to 
set  at  rest  the  rumor  that  he  had  killed  Thyamis. 

L.  Thermuthis  (II.  xii)  escaped  from  the 
hostile  band,  found  Thisbe  dead  in  the  cave, 
joined  Theagenes,  Chariclea  and  Cnemon,  told 
them  his  part  of  H  (II.  xiv),  and  set  out  in 
search  of  Thyamis  (II.  xviii).  He  insisted  upon 
Cnemon's  bearing  him  company,  who  complied, 
upon  Theagenes's  suggestion  that  he  might  easily 
desert  Thermuthis  whenever  he  would.  So 
Cnemon,  agreeing  to  rejoin  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea  at  the  town  of  Chemmis,  went  with 
Thermuthis,  but  soon,  pretending  to  fall  behind 
by  reason  of  sickness,  contrived  to  leave  him 
alone  (II.  xix-xx).  Thermuthis  falling  asleep 
was  stung  by  an  asp,  and  died.  Meanwhile, 
Theagenes  and  Chariclea,  disguised  as  beggars 
(II.  xix;  V.  iv),  also  set  out  for  Chemmis. 

M.  (II.  xxi)  On  the  banks  of  the  Nile  near 
Chemmis,  Cnemon  encountered  Calasiris,  who 
had  wandered  thither  from  the  Heracleotic 
mouth  of  the  Nile  (see  B  ad  fin.}.  Here  also 
Nausicles,  in  the  course  of  his  search  for  Thisbe, 
had  placed  his  headquarters,  and  had  taken  as  a 
guest  Calasiris,  similarly  engaged  in  a  search  for 
his  adopted  children  (II.  xxii).  Now  Calasiris 
extended  tc  Cnemon  the  shelter  of  Nausicles's 
house,  and  there  told  Cnemon  A  and  B  (a)  (II. 
xxv-xxxvi;  III  entire;  IV  entire;  V.  i). 

N.     Nausicles  himself  was  absent  (II.  xxiv). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  19 

He  had  bribed  Mithranes,  the  lieutenant  of 
Oroondates,  to  send  a  detachment  of  troops  in 
search  of  Thisbe,  and  was  now  with  them.  They 
met  (V.  v-vii)  and  captured  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea.  Mithranes,  designing  to  send  The- 
agenes as  a  present  to  the  Great  King,  dispatched 
him  to  his  commander  Oroondates,  then  at 
Memphis  (V.  ix).  Chariclea  was  promptly 
claimed  as  Thisbe  by  Nausicles  (V.  viii),  who 
whispered  to  her  that  her  safety  depended  upon 
her  acknowledging  that  name.  She  did  so,  and 
Nausicles  took  her  to  his  house  at  Chemmis,  un- 
beknown to  his  guests.  That  night  (V.  ii-iii) 
Cnemon  overheard  her  lamenting  her  fate  and 
calling  herself  Thisbe;  and  he  was  sore  afraid. 
Next  day  she  was  restored  to  Calasiris  (V.  xi- 
xv),  to  whose  claim  Nausicles  yielded  her. 
Calasiris  told  B  (&)  (V.  xvi-xxxiv)  ;  Cnemon, 

P  (0  (vi.  ii). 

O.  (VI.  iii-viii)  Thyamis  managed  to  make 
his  escape  (see  K}  and  to  gather  another  band 
from  the  town  of  Bessa.  With  this  he  attacked 
Mithranes's  force,  and  took  Theagenes.  These 
facts  were  learned  by  Calasiris,  Chariclea,  Nau- 
sicles and  Cnemon  on  their  way  to  redeem 
Theagenes  from  Mithranes.  They  returned  to 
Chemmis.  There  Nausicles  offered  Cnemon  his 
daughter  to  wife.  Cnemon  took  her  gladly,  and 
threw  in  his  lot  with  his  father-in-law,  who  was 
about  to  go  to  Greece.  [This  is  the  last  of 
Cnemon  and  of  Nausicles.] 

P.  (VI.  xi-xv)  Calasiris  and  Chariclea  dis- 
guised as  beggars  made  their  way  to  Bessa  to 


20  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

find  Theagenes.  Arriving  at  sunset,  they  learned 
from  an  old  woman  that  Mithranes  had  sought  to 
punish  the  Bessenes  for  their  attack,  but  had  been 
defeated  and  killed:  and  that  the  insurgents 
under  Thyamis,  in  order  to  strengthen  themselves 
against  the  Great  King,  from  whom  they  could 
no  longer  hope  for  pardon,  had  now  proceeded 
to  attack  Memphis  itself — Oroondates  being  ab- 
sent upon  an  expedition  into  Ethiopia:  The- 
agenes, then,  was  to  be  found  towards  Memphis. 
The  old  woman  retired,  and  now  believing  her- 
self unobserved,  raised  the  dead  body  of  her 
son,  slain  in  the  fight,  and  by  her  spells  com- 
pelled it  to  prophesy :  "  She  herself  should 
shortly  die  a  violent  death ;  the  priest  then  pres- 
ent might  if  he  made  haste  prevent  the  fatal 
outcome  of  a  combat  between  his  sons;  the 
maiden  would  be  united  with  her  lover."  Seek- 
ing to  destroy  the  witnesses  to  her  necromancy, 
the  witch  stumbled,  and  fell  upon  the  point  of  a 
spear  that  stuck  up  from  the  field.  Thus  she 
died. 

Q.  Arrived  before  the  walls  of  Memphis 
(VII.  i-iii),  Thyamis  and  Theagenes,  now 
grown  friends,  called  for  a  parley,  and  demanded 
Thyamis's  restoration  to  the  priesthood.  In  the 
absence  of  Oroondates,  his  wife  Arsace  as  regent 
came  to  the  walls,  and  beheld  the  two  young  men. 
Straightway  her  old  desire  of  Thyamis  gave 
place  to  new  desire  of  Theagenes  (VII.  iv). 
Yet  she  so  far  favored  Thyamis  as  to  grant  that 
his  quarrel  with  Petosiris  should  be  decided  by 
single  combat  between  them.  Petosiris  re- 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  21 

luctantly  accepted  his  brother's  challenge,  tried  to 
run  away,  and  was  chased  round  the  walls  by 
Thyamis  (VII.  v-vi).  Theagenes,  unarmed,  ac- 
companied Thyamis :  so  that  Arsace  became  still 
more  passionately  enamored  of  Theagenes's 
grace  as  a  runner.  At  the  moment  when 
Thyamis  was  about  to  strike  (VII.  vi-vii), 
arrived  Calasiris  with  Chariclea.  The  old  man 
threw  off  his  rags,  appeared  in  his  sacred  garb, 
stopped  the  combat,  and  reconciled  his  sons. 
Theagenes  not  recognizing  Chariclea  in  the 
beggar-girl  before  him,  rebuffed  and  struck  her 
when  she  tried  to  embrace  him ;  but  she  mur- 
mured their  countersign  Pythius  and  exhibited 
her  torch:  whereupon  he  knew  her  and  com- 
pleted this  scene  of  recognition.  Received 
enthusiastically  by  the  Memphians  (VII.  viii), 
who  flocked  about  them,  they  all  entered  the  city 
in  a  sort  of  triumphal  procession. 

Calasiris  now  inducted  Thyamis  into  the 
priesthood,  resigned  his  own  robes,  and  died 
(VII.  viii,  xi),  perhaps  of  joy  in  this  consum- 
mation. (Thus  verifying  an  oracle  he  had 
received  upon  his  arrival  at  Delphi :  that  he 
should  soon  possess  a  piece  of  Egyptian 
ground.)  His  funeral  rites  made  it  unlaw- 
ful for  any  but  priests  to  enter  the  precincts 
of  the  temple  for  seven  days.  Thus  Thyamis 
was  rendered  unable  to  keep  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea  there  under  his  own  protection,  and 
they  were  left  to  the  designs  of  Arsace  (VII. 
ix-xv).  She  lodged  them  well  in  the  palace, 
and,  assisted  by  her  old  chamber-woman,  Cybele, 


22  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

who  acted  as  go-between,  gradually  acquainted 
Theagenes  with  her  wishes.  He  repeatedly  re- 
fused her  (VII.  xix,  xxii,  xxv) — despite 
Chariclea's  advice  (VII.  xxi)  to  him  to  feign 
compliance — and  at  a  public  audience  gave  her 
scant  respect.  Cybele's  son,  Achaemenes  (VII. 
xv-xvi),  formerly  an  officer  under  Mithranes, 
had  been  given  charge  of  Theagenes  to  take  him 
to  Oroondates.  Now  he  recognized  him;  and, 
seeing  Chariclea  too,  fell  in  love  with  her.  When 
his  mother,  who  had  failed  to  persuade  The- 
agenes, was  in  fear  of  Arsace's  threats,  he  of- 
fered Arsace  a  sure  means  of  forcing  Theagenes 
to  comply  (VII.  xxiii-xxiv),  provided  she  would 
promise  him  "  Theagenes's  sister  "  to  wife.  She 
consented,  and  he  thereupon  told  her  that  The- 
agenes was  in  reality  her  slave,  as  he  had  been 
taken  in  war  and  destined  for  her  husband  to 
send  to  her  brother  the  Great  King.  Arsace 
now  made  Theagenes  her  servant  at  table.  But 
when  she  told  him  that  she  had  granted  "his 
sister  "  to  Achaemenes,  he  pretended  that  his  re- 
sistance was  overcome  (VII.  xxv-xxvi),  re- 
quested private  audience  with  only  Cybele  as  wit- 
ness, revealed  Chariclea's  real  relation  to  himself, 
and  urged  that  as  Arsace  had  promised  Achae- 
menes not  "  Chariclea,"  but  "  Theagenes's  sister," 
she  might  lawfully  disavow  her  supposed 
promise.  He  himself,  he  said,  would  yield  as 
soon  as  she  did  so.  Thus  he  again  raised  him- 
self into  high  favor,  still  further  inflamed  Arsace 
(VII.  xxvii)  by  his  grace  in  serving  her  at  table, 
and  frustrated  Achaemenes.  Informed  by  his 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  23 

mother  (VII.  xxviii),  Achaemenes  at  once  posted 
off  to  Oroondates  (VII.  xxix)  who  was  then 
preparing  a  campaign  against  the  Ethiopians  in 
re  the  still  unsettled  question  of  Philae  and  the 
emerald  mines  (see  A).  Him  he  told  of  Chari- 
clea's  beauty,  and  of  Arsace's  conduct  toward 
Theagenes.  Oroondates  forthwith  sent  peremp- 
torily for  both  the  prisoners  (VIII.  i-iii). 

Meanwhile  Theagenes  had  resumed  his  resist- 
ance, and  at  the  instigation  of  Cybele  had  been 
imprisoned  and  flogged  (VIII.  iii,  v-vi)  by  order 
of  Arsace.  It  was  in  vain  that  Thyamis  (VIII. 
iii-v),  now  at  liberty  after  the  period  of  ritual 
seclusion,  requested  Arsace  to  turn  the  lovers 
over  to  his  care.  She  declined  to  give  them  up. 
Theagenes  in  his  cell  continually  called  upon  the 
name  of  Chariclea  (VIII.  vi)  ;  whereat  Cybele 
conceived  the  idea  that  if  Chariclea  were  put  out 
of  the  way,  Theagenes  would  yield.  With 
Arsace's  permission,  therefore  (VIII.  vii-viii), 
she  attempted  to  poison  Chariclea.  But  the 
slave-girl  who  offered  the  cups  accidentally  inter- 
changed them,  and  Cybele  drank  the  poison.  Yet 
even  as  she  died,  her  malice  worked:  by  signs 
she  charged  Chariclea  with  poisoning  her. 
Arsace  had  Chariclea  imprisoned  (VIII.  ix)  and 
on  the  next  day  arraigned;  who  defied  her,  but 
declared  that  if  Theagenes  were,  as  she  supposed, 
dead,  she  would  acknowledge  the  crime,  that 
she  too  might  die.  Thereupon  she  was  con- 
demned to  the  stake.  But  the  stone  Pantarbe 
in  her  ring  kept  her  unscathed  in  the  midst  of 
the  flames.  Pitying  her  beauty  and  manifest 


24  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

innocence,  the  people  rescued  her;  but  Arsace 
recaptured  her  and  harangued  them  to  the  effect 
that  she  had  been  saved  by  witchcraft  only :  next 
day  they  should  come  and  themselves  should  have 
an  opportunity  to  condemn  her  upon  all  the  evi- 
dence. Meanwhile,  as  an  additional  torment,  that 
she  might  behold  her  lover's  sad  plight,  she  was 
committed  to  the  cell  occupied  by  Theagenes ;  but 
they  regarded  this  course  as  a  favor,  and  spent 
the  night  in  talk.  Chariclea  related  (VIII.  xi) 
that  on  the  previous  night  Calasiris  had  appeared 
to  her  in  a  vision  and  bidden  her  be  of  good 
cheer,  for  Pantarbe  would  save  her.  Theagenes 
related  that  Calasiris  had  on  the  same  night  ap- 
peared to  him  and  predicted  that  on  the  morrow 
the  lovers  should  escape  and  soon  reach  Ethiopia. 
The  fulfilment  of  the  first  prediction  made  them 
look  confidently  for  that  of  the  second. 

Indeed,  that  very  night  (VIII.  xii-xv) 
Oroondates's  deputy  arrived,  and,  showing  his 
authority,  removed  the  prisoners  and  conducted 
them  towards  Oroondates.  On  the  way  a  mes- 
senger overtook  them  to  announce  that  Arsace 
upon  learning  of  their  removal  had  killed  her- 
self. Later  a  messenger  from  the  front  met 
them  with  the  news  that  Oroondates  had  gone  to 
Syene,  which  was  threatened  by  the  enemy 
(VIII.  xvi-xvii).  Travelling  in  that  direction, 
the  lovers  were  shortly  captured  by  a  scouting 
party  of  Ethiopians,  who  conveyed  them  to  the 
army  of  Hydaspes. 

Hydaspes  was  besieging  Oroondates  in  Syene 
(IX.  i-xxii).  By  means  of  great  trenches  and 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  «5 

earthen  dykes  he  surrounded  the  city  with  the 
waters  of  the  Nile,  which,  insulating  it,  rose 
against  its  walls,  and  threatened  to  break  through 
and  drown  the  inhabitants.  Oroondates  capitu- 
lated, offering  to  surrender  Syene,  as  well  as 
Philae  and  the  emerald  mines,  and  to  undertake 
no  further  hostilities,  if  he  were  allowed  to  de- 
part with  his  army  to  Elephantis.  Meanwhile 
he  dispatched  two  messengers  thither.  Pending 
negotiations,  Hydaspes  granted  a  truce,  and  by 
new  feats  of  engineering  led  off  the  waters  of 
the  Nile.  Then,  by  night,  Oroondates  and  his 
army  treacherously  made  their  escape  by  means 
of  planks  laid  across  the  mud-ring,  and  at  Ele- 
phantis joined  the  main  force  of  Persians,  pre- 
pared by  the  messengers  he  had  sent.  Returning 
with  all  his  troops,  he  retook  Syene,  which  was 
guarded  by  only  a  small  garrison.  Then 
Hydaspes  fought  a  great  battle,  and  defeated  and 
captured  Oroondates,  but  spared  him,  forgave  his 
treachery,  and  (IX.  xxv)  made  him  Viceroy 
under  himself. 

With  the  other  prisoners  Theagenes  and  Chari- 
clea  (IX.  xxiii— xxiv)  were  presented  to  Hy- 
daspes, who  by  reason  of  their  exceeding  beauty 
reserved  them  to  be  sacrificed  when  they  should 
reach  Ethiopia.  Chariclea, — though  Theagenes 
urged  her,  and  though  Hydaspes  related  a  dream 
he  had  had  which  showed  him  a  daughter  of  his 
own  like  Chariclea  in  appearance, — would  not 
then  disclose  her  identity.  She  was  determined 
to  wait  till  she  should  be  in  her  mother's  pres- 
ence, whose  instinct  could  not  fail  to  identify  her. 


26  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Here  and  now  her  tokens  might  be  misunder- 
stood, and  might  be  supposed  to  be  stolen. 

To  Meroe,  then,  the  prisoners  were  taken — 
Hydaspes's  capital;  where  they  were  met  by 
Persina,  with  the  priestly  gymnosophists,  and 
great  numbers  of  the  Ethiopian  people  (X.  i-vi), 
all  rejoicing  in  the  victory.  When  led  forth  to 
the  sacrifice,  Theagenes  and  Chariclea  (X.  vii) 
astonished  all  by  their  beauty  and  courageous 
bearing.  Chariclea  particularly  appealed  to  the 
sympathy  of  Persina,  who  hoped  that  in  the  trial 
of  chastity  which  was  to  establish  the  purity  of 
the  victims  she  might  fail  and  so  be  saved.  Not 
so  (X.  viii,  ix)  :  she  leaped  upon  the  heated 
golden  bars  of  the  altar,  but  remained  unscathed. 
So  too  did  Theagenes.  And  now  the  president 
of  the  gymnosophists — no  other  than  old  Sisi- 
mithres — declined  to  make,  or  to  countenance  by 
his  presence,  a  human  sacrifice,  and  with  his  band 
was  about  to  withdraw,  when  Chariclea  (X. 
x-xv),  hearing  the  King  address  him  as  Sisi- 
mithres,  saw  that  the  moment  had  come,  and 
begged  him  to  remain.  In  his  presence  she  then 
disclosed  her  identity;  offering  in  evidence  her 
inscribed  fillets,  which  Persina  acknowledged  at 
once;  her  striking  resemblance  to  the  pictured 
Andromeda;  the  ring  Pantarbe,  which  Hydaspes 
recognized  as  the  bethrothal  ring  he  had  given  his 
wife;  and  a  black  mark  which  Sisimithres  re- 
membered to  have  seen  on  the  arm  of  the  child 
he  had  found.  Chariclea  (X.  xi)  claimed  ex- 
emption, for  that  only  foreigners  might  be 
sacrificed.  Hydaspes,  only  too  ready  to  grant  it 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  27 

upon  personal  motives,  yet  felt  obliged  to  offer, 
in  a  long  speech  to  his  people,  to  sacrifice  his 
daughter  nevertheless  for  their  sake,  lest  the  gods 
be  wroth  with  them  all.  But  the  multitude 
unanimously  refused  (X.  xvi,  xvii).  Thus  was 
Chariclea  saved. 

In  the  most  absurdly  mock-modest,  round- 
about, underhand,  and  self -contradictory  fashion, 
she  proceeded  (X.  xviii-xxii)  to  give  her  parents 
incomprehensible  hints  about  her  true  relations 
with  Theagenes — now  imploring  his  preserva- 
tion, now  demanding  that  she  alone  might  wield 
the  knife  to  sacrifice  him — until  Hydaspes 
actually  thought  her  mad.  To  give  her  time  to 
recover,  he  took  the  opportunity  to  receive  the 
ambassadors  who  had  come  to  congratulate  him. 
One  of  them  was  his  nephew  Meroebus  (X. 
xxiii-xxiv),  whom  he  at  once  bethrothed  to 
Chariclea.  Meroebus  presented  to  Hydaspes  a 
gigantic  athlete  (X.  xxv) — a  champion  racer, 
boxer  and  wrestler, — whose  challenge  nobody  ac- 
cepting, he  received  a  prize  by  default.  Among 
the  other  gifts  was  a  camelopard  (X.  xviii-xxx). 
This  strange  and  terrifying  creature  so  frightened 
a  sacrificial  bull  and  two  white  horses  that  they 
broke  loose  and  galloped  about.  In  the  con- 
fusion, Theagenes,  whose  keepers  had  relaxed 
their  guard,  leaped  upon  one  of  the  horses,  and, 
without  attempting  to  escape,  pursued  the  bull 
and  drove  him  in  a  team  with  his  own  mount ;  at 
length,  having  tired  him  out,  he  leaped  upon  him 
and  dragged  him  to  the  ground  by  the  horns. 
The  people  shouted  acclaim,  and  demanded  that 


28  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

he  be  matched  with  the  wrestler.  Him  too  he 
felled  (X.  xxxi-xxxii).  The  King  then 
crowned  Theagenes  victor,  who  made  the  same 
petition  as  Chariclea  had  made, — that  she  be  the 
one  to  wield  the  knife.  This  request  was  re- 
fused, and  he  was  being  led  to  the  altar  (X. 
xxxiii),  when  who  should  appear  but  Charicles! 
Ever  since  Chariclea's  elopement  he  had  been 
wandering  in  search  of  her,  and  had  now  traced 
her  to  Egypt,  whence  he  had  taken  this  last  step 
by  the  aid  of  Oroondates,  from  whom  he  bore 
(X.  xxxiv)  a  letter  to  Hydaspes.  Seizing 
Theagenes  (X.  xxxv-xxxvi),  Charicles  de- 
manded his  punishment  for  the  abduction  of 
Chariclea  and  the  sacrilege  done  to  the  temple  of 
Diana  at  Delphi!  Theagenes  admitted  the 
charge  (X.  xxxvii).  Chariclea  welcomed  Chari- 
cles (X.  xxxviii),  and  begged  him  to  punish  her 
for  her  disobedience  to  him,  enjoined  though  it 
was  by  the  gods.  Persina,  now  convinced  that 
our  lovers  were  man  and  wife,  so  assured 
Hydaspes.  He  turned  for  advice  to  Sismithres, 
who  in  a  loud  voice,  that  the  people  might  hear 
and  approve  (X.  xxxix-xli),  declared  that  the 
gods  had  manifested  clearly  their  unwillingness 
to  receive  this  or  any  other  human  sacrifice :  let 
the  custom,  then,  be  abolished,  and  this  young 
couple  be  formally  wedded.  The  people  again 
shouted  approval ;  and  so,  with  the  consent  of  all, 
Theagenes  and  Chariclea  proceeded  to  the  cele- 
bration of  their  nuptial  rites. 


ELIZABETHAN  PROSE  FICTION  »9 

LONGUS  : 
DAPHNIS  AND  CHLOE 

Pre  face    ( Procemium ) 

Hunting  on  Lesbos,  I  saw  in  a  beautiful  grove 
a  painting  representing  the  incidents  of  a  love- 
story, — "  the  fortunes  of  Love  " :  women  in  labor, 
nurses  swathing  new-born  babes;  infants  ex- 
posed; animals  suckling  them;  shepherds  carry- 
ing them  away;  young  people  embracing;  an 
attack  by  pirates;  an  inroad  by  a  hostile  force. 
I  procured  an  explanation  of  the  series,  and 
wrote  out  these  four  books — an  offering  to  the 
God  of  Love,  to  the  Nymphs,  and  to  Pan. 

Book  I 

i-iii.  Lamon,  a  goatherd  upon  an  estate  near 
Mitylene,  found  in  a  thicket  one  of  his  she-goats 
suckling  a  boy-baby,  who  lay  exposed  in  a  very 
rich  mantle,  with  a  little  ivory-hilted  sword.  He 
took  the  boy  with  the  tokens  home  to  his  wife 
Myrtale,  who  agreed  with  him  to  adopt  the  child. 
They  named  him  Daphnis.  iv-vi.  Two  years 
later  Dryas,  a  neighboring  shepherd,  found  in  a 
cave  sacred  to  the  Nymphs,  one  of  his  ewes 
suckling  a  girl-baby,  who  besides  swaddling 
clothes  had  gilt  sandals,  golden  anklets  and  a 
head-dress  wrought  with  gold.  He  took  her 
with  her  tokens  to  his  wife,  and  they  adopted 
her,  calling  her  Chloe. 

vii-x.     When  Daphnis  was  fifteen  and  Chloe 


30  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

thirteen,  their  adoptive  fathers  had  on  the  same 
night  a  vision  of  a  winged  boy  with  bow  and 
arrows,  to  whom  the  Nymphs  presented  Daphnis 
and  Chloe,  and  who,  touching  them  with  one  of 
his  shafts,  bade  them  follow  the  pastoral  life. 
So  they  tended  their  flocks  together  in  the 
springtime,  and  played  in  childlike  peace,  until 
Love  contrived  a  serious  interruption,  xi-xii. 
Daphnis  pursuing  a  goat  fell  into  a  pit  that  had 
been  dug  to  catch  a  wolf,  and  was  rescued  by 
Chloe  with  the  help  of  a  cowherd.  He  was  so 
covered  with  mud  and  dirt  that  he  must  needs 
bathe.6  [xiii-xvii.  As  Chloe  helped  to  wash 
him,  she  saw  the  beauty  of  his  sunburned  skin  and 
felt  the  softness  of  his  flesh,  and  so  first  experi- 
enced love.  She  languished,  lay  awake,  took  no 
food,  and  soliloquized  with  many  antitheses  and 
oxymora. 

Dorco  the  cowherd  became  enamored  of  Chloe, 
gave  her  many  rustic  gifts,  and  at  length  vied 
with  Daphnis  in  argument  as  to  whether  Daphnis 
or  he  were  the  more  beautiful — the  prize  to  be  a 
kiss  from  Chloe.  Daphnis  was  the  winner;  and 
the  kiss  set  his  heart  on  fire.  He  too  languished 
and  grew  pale;  he  too  soliloquized]  with  (xviii) 
much  oxymoron. 

xix-xxii.  Dorco  asked  Dryas  for  the  hand  of 
Chloe,  but  was  refused,  as  Dryas  hoped  for  a 
better  match.  Thus  thwarted,  Dorco  resolved  to 
carry  off  Chloe,  and,  in  order  to  terrify  her, 
clothed  himself  in  a  wolf's  skin  and  hid  among 

8  The  passage  between  brackets  is  the  fragment  discovered 
by  P.  L.  Courier  in  1807  ;  and  is  of  course  unknown  to  the 
Renaissance.  It  is  D,  p.  135, 1.  13-?.  137, 1.  21,  both  included. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  3 1 

the  bushes  near  her  pasture-ground.  But  her 
dogs  scenting  him  attacked  and  bit  him  sorely, 
before  Chloe,  and  Daphnis  whom  she  had  called, 
could  come  to  his  rescue.  Both  Daphnis  and 
Chloe  thought  the  disguise  merely  an  innocent 
jest  on  the  part  of  Dorco.  They  collected  their 
flocks,  which  had  been  scattered  by  the  barking 
of  the  dogs,  and,  tired  by  the  day's  exertion, 
slept  soundly  that  night  despite  their  lovesickness. 

xxiii-xxvii.  Now  Daphnis  and  Chloe  again 
tended  their  flocks  together  in  the  growing  sum- 
mer heat,  which  still  further  inflamed  them. 
Chloe  milked  her  ewes  and  she-goats,  and 
crowned  herself  with  a  chaplet  of  pine.  Daphnis 
bathed,  and  Chloe  put  on  his  dress.  They  pelted 
each  other  with  apples.  Daphnis  taught  Chloe 
to  play  upon  his  pipe,  and  gained  kisses  at  second 
hand  by  touching  quickly  with  his  lips  the  places 
her  lips  had  touched.  Once  when  Chloe  fell 
asleep  at  noonday,  a  grasshopper  pursued  by  a 
swallow  dropped  into  her  bosom,  and  the  swallow 
fluttering  over  her  awoke  her.  She  screamed; 
but  Daphnis  laughed  at  her  alarm,  and  with  his 
hand  took  out  the  happy  grasshopper,  which  she 
kissed  and  replaced  in  her  bosom.  At  the  sound 
of  a  ring-dove's  cooing,  Daphnis  Ipld  Chloe  the 
legend:  how  the  dove  was  once  a  maiden,  a 
tender  of  flocks,  sweet-voiced ;  and  how  a  youth 
contending  with  her  in  song  charmed  away  eight 
of  her  cows.  She  prayed  to  be  transformed  into 
a  bird;  the  gods  granted  her  prayer;  and  still 
she  calls  her  cows,  in  vain. 

xxviii-xxx.     In     the     early     autumn,     some 


3»  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

Tyrian  pirates  descended  upon  that  coast.  After 
a  struggle  with  Dorco  they  drove  off  some  of 
his  oxen;  and  rinding  Daphnis  alone  upon  the 
shore,  carried  him  away  too,  calling  upon  Chloe 
for  help.  She  ran  to  Dorco,  who,  sore  wounded 
and  about  to  breathe  his  last,  gave  her  his  pipe, 
with  the  direction  to  play  upon  it  the  call  his 
oxen  knew.  Then  he  died,  taking  one  kiss  from 
her  as  his  reward.  Chloe  played  the  well-known 
tune;  whereupon  the  oxen  thronged  to  one  side 
of  the  pirate  ship  and  leapt  overboard,  capsizing 
it  and  precipitating  the  crew  and  Daphnis  into 
the  water.  The  pirates,  weighed  down  with  their 
armor,  soon  drowned ;  Daphnis,  lightly  clad, 
swam  ashore  between  two  oxen,  grasping  a  horn 
of  each. 

xxxi-xxxii.  They  celebrated  in  rustic  fashion 
the  funeral  of  Dorco.  Then  Chloe  bathed 
Daphnis,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  presence 
bathed  herself ;  so  that  he  was  nigh  distracted. 

Book  II 

i-ii.  Now  came  the  vintage ;  and  Daphnis  and 
Chloe  left  their  flocks  and  helped.  The  women 
admired  Daphnis,  the  men  Chloe,  who  both 
wished  themselves  back  at  the  herding.  At 
length,  when  the  grapes  were  all  trodden  and  the 
new  wine  stored  in  casks,  they  returned,  and 
rejoiced  with  their  flocks.  An  old  man  named 
Philetas,  sitting  near,  accosted  them,  and  told 
them  this  Idyll : 

iii-vi.  "  I  have  a  beautiful  garden.  Today 
when  I  entered  it  about  noon,  I  spied  a  little 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  33 

naked  boy  under  my  pomegranates  and  myrtles, 
some  of  which  he  had  plucked.  I  sprang  to 
catch  him,  but  lightly  he  escaped;  and  when  I 
paused  exhausted,  he  came  near  and  smiled  so 
irresistibly  that  I  offered  him  the  freedom  of  my 
garden  for  a  kiss.  Laughing  he  replied :  '  One 
kiss  from  me  would  only  make  you  run  after  me 
for  more ;  and  in  vain,  for  you  could  never  catch 
me.  Child  though  I  seem,  I  am  older  than 
Saturn  or  old  Time;  and  I  have  known  you, 
Philetas,  of  old.  I  was  by  when  you  wooed 
Amaryllis:  she  and  your  sons  were  my  gifts  to 
you.  Through  me  it  is  that  your  garden  blooms. 
But  just  now  I  am  shepherding  Daphnis  and 
Chloe.'  Like  a  young  nightingale  he  sprang  up 
among  the  myrtles,  and  vanished,  but  not  before 
I  saw  wings  upon  his  shoulders,  and  a  bow  and 
arrows  between.  Depend  upon  it,  you  are  con- 
secrated to  Love." 

vii-xi.  "  What  is  this  Love  ?  "  they  asked,  "  a 
child  or  a  bird?" 

Philetas  answered  in  praise  of  Love,  telling  of 
his  dominion  over  all  nature  and  over  the  gods 
themselves ;  of  the  pains  he  inflicts :  heat,  cold, 
and  desire,  loss  of  appetite  and  of  sleep;  and  of 
the  remedies :  to  kiss,  embrace,  and  lie  naked 
together.  Hereon  they  mused ;  and,  when 
Philetas  had  gone  and  they  had  returned  home, 
they  realized,  each  of  them,  that  the  symptoms  he 
had  described  were  their  own.  Next  morning 
they  tried  for  the  first  time  the  first  two  remedies, 
and  on  the  following  day  a  literal  version  of  the 
third,  but  without  avail. 


34  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

xii-xix.  At  this  time  some  young  men  of 
Methymne  came  to  spend  the  vintage  in  hunting 
and  fishing  along  this  coast.  A  peasant  having 
stolen  the  cable  wherewith  they  had  moored  their 
boat,  they  substituted  a  twisted  willow-withe. 
The  chase  frightened  Daphnis's  goats  down  to 
the  shore,  where  finding  no  other  food  they 
gnawed  through  the  osier;  so  that  a  rising  swell 
carried  away  the  boat  and  its  contents.  The 
youths  found  Daphnis,  gave  him  a  beating,  and 
were  preparing  to  bind  him,  when  Lamon  and 
Dryas  appeared  in  answer  to  his  cries,  and  in- 
sisted upon  a  fair  hearing  for  both  sides.  Phi- 
letas  as  the  oldest  man  present  was  chosen  as 
judge,  and,  having  heard  the  youths  and  Daphnis 
plead  their  cause,  decided  for  Daphnis.  En- 
raged, the  Methymnaeans  seized  Daphnis  again, 
but  were  beaten  off  by  the  countrymen  and  had  to 
make  their  painful  way  home  on  foot.  There 
they  told  as  much  of  the  story  as  favored  them- 
selves, and  incited  their  fellow  citizens  to  make 
war  on  the  Lesbians. 

xx-xxiv.  The  invaders  with  a  fleet  ravaged  the 
coast,  seized  Daphnis's  herds  and  carried  off 
Chloe — though  she  had  fled  for  asylum  to  the 
grotto  of  the  Nymphs,  where  she  had  first  been 
found.  Daphnis  not  finding  her  at  their  usual 
haunts  lamented  her  to  the  Nymphs,  who  reas- 
sured him  in  a  vision,  promising  the  aid  of  Pan, 
to  whom  they  recommended  him  now  to  pay 
due  honors.  So  he  did,  and  returned  home. 

xxv-xxx.  During  that  night  and  the  next  day 
the  Methymnaean  fleet  was  beset  with  Panic 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  35 

terrors:  the  earth  appeared  to  be  in  a  blaze, 
hostile  vessels  seemed  to  approach  with  clashing 
oars,  the  goats'  horns  were  wreathed  with  ivy, 
the  sheep  howled  like  wolves,  Chloe  herself  was 
garlanded  with  pine-branches;  anchors  stuck, 
oars  were  split,  dolphins  leapt  from  the  sea  and 
shattered  the  vessel's  planks;  and  from  the  top 
of  a  neighboring  headland  were  heard  the  terrific 
notes  of  Pan's  own  pipe.  At  length  Pan  himself 
addressing  the  commander  in  a  dream  bade  him 
restore  Chloe  and  the  goats  and  sheep,  which 
being  immediately  landed,  Pan's  pipes  guided, 
now  playing  a  sweet  pastoral  measure,  over  this 
strange  country  back  to  Daphnis. 

xxxi-xxxiii.  Daphnis  and  Chloe  gratefully 
sacrificed  to  the  Nymphs  and  to  Pan ;  Lamon 
and  Dryas,  Philetas  and  his  young  son  Tityrus 
assisting  at  the  feast.  Each  of  the  participants 
contributed  to  the  entertainment.  xxxiv. 
Lamon  related  the  legend  of  Pan  and  Syrinx,  and 
of  the  invention  of  the  pipes  of  Pan.  xxxv. 
Philetas  on  his  own  great  pipe  played  all  the 
varieties  of  pastoral  melody — the  tune  for  oxen, 
the  tune  for  goats,  the  tune  for  sheep — and 
finally  the  vintage-dance,  xxxvi.  This  Dryas 
danced  in  pantomime,  imitating  every  process  of 
the  vintage,  xxxvii-xxxix.  Then  Daphnis  and 
Chloe  in  pantomimic  dance  enacted  Pan  and 
Syrinx — Daphnis  at  length  playing  so  sweetly 
upon  Philetas'  pipe  his  lamentation  for  the 
Nymph  transformed,  that  Philetas  bestowed 
upon  him  the  pipe.  Daphnis  dedicated  his  old 
boyish  pipe  as  an  offering  to  Pan;  and  with 


36  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Chloe  driving  homeward  their  flocks  and  herds, 
so  ended  the  day.  Next  morning  they  met 
earlier  than  usual,  again  tried  in  vain  the  reme- 
dies of  love,  and  vowed  mutual  fidelity. 

Book  III 

i-iii.  Mitylene  now  sent  an  army  against 
Methymne,  which,  by  this  time,  discovering  the 
true  cause  of  the  fray  to  have  been  the  insolence 
of  her  own  young  men,  asked  for  peace  and 
offered  to  restore  all  the  spoils — an  offer  which 
was  at  once  accepted.  "Thus  did  the  war  be- 
tween Methymne  and  Mitylene  begin  and  end  in 
an  equally  unexpected  manner." 

iv-xi.  Now  winter  came,  and  snow  blocked 
the  roads  and  shut  the  cottagers  within  doors 
to  their  fireside  occupations.  Chloe  was  kept  at 
the  spinning  and  the  wool-carding,  but  Daphnis 
went  abroad  to  snare  birds  in  the  trees  near 
Chloe's  cottage,  hoping  for  a  pretext  to  enter 
and  see  her.  When  he  had  snared  a  bagful 
without  seeing  a  sign  of  life  from  within,  he  was 
just  about  to  depart  when  Dryas  himself — in 
chase  of  a  sheep-dog  that  had  stolen  his  meat — 
came  out  and  heartily  invited  Daphnis  in. 
Daphnis  and  Chloe  met  and  embraced ;  she  served 
wine,  herself  sipping  first,  and  he  drank  at  the 
spot  her  lips  had  touched.  Then  they  all  sat 
by  the  fire,  and  at  length  Lamon  and  Myrtale 
invited  Daphnis  to  remain  till  the  morrow.  He 
gladly  accepted,  and  gave  them  his  bag  of  birds 
for  supper.  So  they  sat  round  the  fire  again, 
drinking  and  singing  and  telling  stories  till  bed- 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  37 

time.  Next  day  Daphnis  and  Chloe  snared  birds 
together,  and  again  exchanged  vows,  and  told 
of  their  longing  for  the  spring.  Then  Daphnis 
took  his  leave,  but  often  thereafter  contrived 
occasion  for  new  visits. 

xii-xx.  At  last  came  spring  once  more,  all 
living  creatures  loved,  and  Daphnis  and  Chloe, 
themselves  shepherded  by  Love,  went  forth 
before  all  the  other  shepherds,  that  they  might 
be  together  alone.  Daphnis  now  grown  bolder 
in  love  tried  to  treat  Chloe  as  he  saw  the  rarns 
treat  the  ewes,  and  the  he-goats  their  mates,  but 
still  in  vain.  And  now  Lycaenium,  the  young 
city  wife  of  their  old  neighbor  Chromis,  gave 
Daphnis  a  lesson  in  love.  This  however  he 
would  not  practice  with  Chloe,  fearing  to  hurt 
her. 

xxi-xxiii.  As  they  sat  together,  a  fishing-boat 
passed  near  them,  the  boatswain  and  the  sailors 
singing  a  rowing  song  and  chorus,  which  the 
echo  prolonged  and  redoubled.  "Was  there 
another  sea  behind  the  hill,  and  other  sailors 
singing  ? "  Chloe  asked  when  all  was  still 
again.  Daphnis  smiling  told  her  the  legend  of 
Echo — stipulating  for  a  reward  of  ten  kisses: 
'  Echo,  the  daughter  of  a  nymph  and  of  a  mortal, 
learned  from  the  Muses  every  kind  of  music. 
She  refused  marriage,  and  fled  the  sight  of  men. 
Pan  in  his  indignation  inspired  the  shepherds 
with  such  frenzy  that  they  tore  her  limb  from 
limb.  Her  melodious  body,  though  covered  with 
earth,  still  preserves  its  gift  of  music,  and  imi- 
tates all  sounds,  even  those  of  the  pipes  of  Pan, — 


38  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

who,  when  he  hears  her,  rushes  over  the  hills 
to  find  his  hidden  pupil.'  Chloe  gave  him  kisses 
not  ten  but  a  thousand. 

xxv-xxix.  This  summer  Chloe  had  many 
suitors,  who  offered  rich  gifts;  but  Dryas  still 
postponed  a  decision,  in  the  hope  of  a  more 
brilliant  match, — aware  as  he  was  that  Chloe 
was  something  above  a  shepherd's  daughter. 
Daphnis  in  distress  at  the  chance  of  losing  her, 
desired  to  ask  her  hand,  but  his  foster-parents 
also  disapproved,  wishing  to  reserve  him  for  a 
less  humble  bride.  Moreover,  Daphnis  himself 
was  poor.  Now  he  prayed  to  the  Nymphs,  who 
in  a  vision  told  him  that  the  boat  of  the  young 
Methymnaeans  had  been  driven  ashore  and 
wrecked,  leaving  a  purse  of  three  thousand 
drachmas  under  a  bunch  of  seaweed  near  a  dead 
dolphin,  the  smell  of  which  had  kept  others  from 
finding  the  treasure.  This  very  smell  guided 
Daphnis  to  it,  who  boldly  offered  it  to  Dryas  as 
his  wooing  gift. 

xxx-xxxiv.  Dryas  accepted,  and  went  to  gain 
the  consent  of  Lamon.  This  Lamon  gave,  sub- 
ject to  the  consent  of  his  master,  who  was  ex- 
pected from  Mitylene  in  the  autumn  to  visit  his 
estate.  Joyfully  Dryas  returned  and  told  the 
news  to  Daphnis,  joyfully  Daphnis  received  it 
and  ran  to  tell  Chloe.  Her  he  found  at  the 
milking  and  cheese-making,  wherein  he  helped 
her  openly,  as  her  affianced ;  and  then  they  went 
together  to  look  for  fruit.  One  bright  particular 
apple,  golden  and  fragrant,  and  solitary  on  the 
top  of  the  tree,  Daphnis  climbed  for,  and  plucked, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  39 

and  gave  to  Chloe ;  and  she  gave  him  a  kiss  more 
precious  than  a  golden  apple. 

Book  IV 

i-vi.  In  preparation  for  his  master's  visit,  now 
announced  definitely  by  a  neighbor,  Lamon  set  in 
order  his  house  and  his  garden.  Soon  another 
messenger,  Eudromus,  came  with  orders  for  them 
to  get  in  the  vintage:  at  the  end  of  the  vintage 
the  master  would  come.  Daphnis  gave  Eudro- 
mus many  gifts,  who  returned  to  Mitylene  well 
pleased. 

vii-x.  Lampis  an  insolent  herdsman,  and  an 
envious  wooer  of  Chloe,  desiring  to  destroy 
Lamon's  interest  with  his  master  and  so  spoil 
her  match  with  Daphnis,  broke  into  Lamon's 
garden  at  night,  and  uprooted,  broke,  or  trampled 
down  the  flowers.  All  were  in  despair  until 
Eudromus — coming  to  announce  the  arrival  of 
the  master  in  three  days,  and  that  of  his  son  the 
next  day — counselled  them  to  tell  the  whole  to 
their  young  master  Astylus.  Astylus,  who  in 
fact  came  next  day  with  Gnatho  his  parasite, 
heard  the  story,  and  promised  to  intercede  for 
them  with  his  father, — promised  indeed  to  lay 
the  blame  upon  his  own  horses,  which  he  would 
say  had  done  the  damage. 

xi-xii.  Gnatho  now  made  paederastic  pro- 
posals to  Daphnis,  who  knocked  him  down.  Still 
Gnatho  hoped  to  obtain  him  as  a  gift  from 
Astylus. 

xiii-xv.  Meanwhile,  Dionysophanes  and  Clear- 
ista  arrived,  and,  well  pleased  with  what  they 


4°  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

saw — for  they  excused  the  condition  of  the  gar- 
den— promised  Lamon  his  freedom.  Then  they 
inspected  the  herd  of  goats,  which  they  found  to 
have  prospered  under  Daphnis's  charge,  and  they 
listened  while  Daphnis  put  the  goats  through  a 
drill,  to  the  sound  of  his  pipe. 

xvi-xvii.  Gnatho  now  with  arguments  in  favor 
of  paederasty  asked  Daphnis  of  Astylus,  who 
promised  to  beg  him  of  Dionysophanes.  xviii. 
This  conversation,  overheard  by  Eudromus  and 
reported  to  Lamon,  determined  the  latter  to  re- 
veal the  circumstances  of  the  finding  of  Daphnis. 
xix-xx.  Accordingly,  upon  Dionysophanes  send- 
ing for  Lamon  and  telling  him  that  Daphnis 
would  accompany  Astylus,  Lamon  told  his  story 
and  produced  the  tokens,  xxi-xxiii.  These 
Dionysophanes  and  Clearista  recognized  as  hav- 
ing been  exposed  with  their  own  youngest  child; 
and  Astylus  at  once  ran  for  Daphnis.  Fearing 
that  he  was  to  be  treated  with  violence,  Daphnis 
ran  to  a  cliff,  ready  to  throw  himself  into  the  sea ; 
but  his  brother  reassured  him,  and  brought  him 
to  their  father,  who  told  them  the  story  of  the 
exposure:  xxiv.  Having  married  young  he  had 
had  a  daughter  and  two  sons — with  which  issue 
being  content,  he  had  exposed  his  fourth  child ; 
but  the  daughter  and  one  son  soon  thereafter  had 
died  on  the  same  day,  leaving  Astylus  the  only 
survivor:  so  that  the  parents  now  rejoiced  at 
finding  Daphnis  again. 

xxv-xxix.  Daphnis  still  performed  his  duties 
as  herdsman.  While  his  friends  and  parents 
feasted,  and  while  he  said  farewell  to  each  of  his 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  41 

pastoral  implements  and  occupations,  Chloe 
wept,  fearing  that  he  would  forsake  her. 
Lampis  seeing  his  opportunity  and  certain  that 
Daphnis  would  not  marry  her,  gathered  a  band  of 
rustics  and  was  carrying  her  off,  when  Gnatho 
rescued  her,  in  the  hope  of  thus  conciliating 
Daphnis;  who  did  indeed  forgive  him  when 
Chloe  was  restored. 

xxx-xxxiii.  Daphnis  now  proposed  to  marry 
Chloe  secretly:  but  Dryas  published  the  circum- 
stances under  which  he  had  found  her.  With 
a  view  to  the  happiness  of  Daphnis,  his  parents 
consented  to  the  marriage,  and  received  Chloe, 
and  arrayed  her  splendidly.  She  too  said  fare- 
well to  her  flock,  and  hung  up  her  pipe,  her  scrip, 
her  cloak,  and  her  milking-pails ;  and  with  the 
others  went  to  the  city. 

xxxiv-xxxvi.  There,  on  the  eve  of  the  mar- 
riage-feast, the  Nymphs  and  Love  appeared  to 
Dionysophanes,  bidding  him  exhibit  Chloe's 
tokens  to  each  of  the  wedding-guests.  So  he 
did,  and  they  were  acknowledged  by  Megacles,  a 
man  of  high  rank  in  Mitylene.  He  told  the 
story  of  Chloe's  exposure :  She  had  been  born  at 
a  time  when  his  wealth  had  been  exhausted ;  and 
he  had  exposed  her  in  the  hope  that  some 
wealthier  person  might  adopt  her.  Then  his 
riches  had  increased,  when  he  had  no  heir;  but 
the  gods  had  continually  sent  him  dreams  signify- 
ing that  a  ewe  would  make  him  a  father !  With 
great  joy  he  received  Chloe  for  his  daughter. 

xxxvii-xl.  Next  morning  they  all  returned  to 
the  country ;  for  Daphnis  and  Chloe  were  tired  of 


42  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

the  city,  and  wished  a  rustic  wedding.  And  so 
did  they  celebrate  it,  with  pastoral  splendor ;  and 
at  last,  too,  found  the  remedy  of  Love !  To  Love, 
to  Pan,  and  to  the  Nymphs,  indeed,  they  con- 
secrated their  lives;  and  their  first  child,  a  boy, 
was  suckled  by  a  goat;  their  second,  a  girl,  by 
a  ewe. 


ELIZABETHAN  PROSE  FICTION  43 

ACHILLES  TATIUS: 

CLITOPHON  AND  LEUCIPPE 

Book  I 

i.  (Sidon  described:  its  double  harbor.) 
Arriving  in  Sidon  after  a  storm,  I  made  a  thank- 
offering  to  Astarte,  and  then  went  about  the  city 
and  looked  at  other  offerings.  There  I  saw  a 
picture  of  Europa.  (Picture  of  Europa  de- 
scribed.) ii.  I  exclaimed  upon  the  power  of 
Love,  which  could  master  even  Zeus;  where- 
upon a  young  man  standing  by  declared  that  he 
had  himself  experienced  that  power.  We  re- 
tired to  the  banks  of  a  stream  in  a  grove  of 
plane-trees,  where  he  told  his  story: 

iii.  I  am  Clitophon,  the  son  of  Hippias  of 
Tyre.  My  mother  died  when  I  was  an  infant. 
My  father  marrying  again  had  a  daughter  Calli- 
gone,  to  whom  he  wished  to  marry  me ;  but  Fate 
decreed  otherwise.  (Disquisition  on  fate  as  pre- 
figured by  dreams,  which  enable  men  not  to  avoid 
it  but  only  to  dull  the  edge  of  their  suffering.) 
When  I  was  nineteen  years  old,  Fortune  began 
the  drama  I  shall  relate.  I  dreamed  one  night 
that  my  body  from  the  middle  downward  was  one 
with  the  body  of  a  maiden,  and  that  a  woman  of 
horrible  aspect,  with  a  sickle  in  her  right  hand 
and  a  torch  in  her  left,  cut  us  apart.  This 
dream  I  regarded  as  a  portent.  My  father  had 
a  rich  half-brother,  Sostratus,  in  Byzantium, 
from  whom  there  now  came  a  letter,  recommend- 
ing to  my  father's  care  during  a  war  between 


44  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Thrace  and  Byzantium,  the  writer's  wife  Panthea 
and  daughter  Leucippe.  iv.  The  ladies  arrived 
immediately ;  and  at  first  sight  of  Leucippe  I  fell 
in  love  with  her.  (Leucippe  described.  Love 
enters  at  the  eyes.)  v-vi.  At  supper  I  gazed 
and  could  eat  nothing,  but  feasted  my  eyes  like 
one  banqueting  in  a  dream.  Thus  I  languished 
three  days.  vii.  My  cousin  Clinias,  two  years 
older  than  I,  a  love-adept,  I  had  always  teased 
about  his  passion;  but  now  I  sought  him  and 
confessed  that  he  had  been  right  in  predicting 
that  I  too  should  sometime  be  love's  slave. 
From  the  symptoms  of  my  vigil  he  at  once  con- 
cluded that  I  really  was  in  love.  While  we  were 
conversing,  enter  Clinias's  favorite  Charicles,  to 
whom  Clinias  had  recently  given  a  horse.  Chari- 
cles told  us  that  his  father  wished  him  to  marry 
a  rich  and  ugly  woman,  viii.  Thereupon  Clinias 
burst  into  an  invective  against  women  and  against 
marriage ;  but  Charicles,  as  his  marriage  was  not 
to  take  place  for  several  days,  put  away  thoughts 
of  that  calamity,  and  went  to  race  his  new  horse 
— to  take  what  was  to  prove  both  his  first  and 
his  last  ride. 

ix-xi.  I  resumed  my  complaint  to  Clinias,  who 
gave  me  explicit  instructions  in  both  the  theory 
and  the  practice  of  love.  (Ars  Amatoria.)  "All 
very  well,"  said  I,  "but  here  success  may  be 
worse  than  failure :  being  betrothed  to  my  father's 
choice,  I  cannot  wed  Leucippe  even  if  I  win  her. 
I  am  torn  between  necessity  and  nature,  I  must 
decide  between  Love  and  my  father;  and  Love 
with  his  arrows  and  his  fire  coerces  the  judge." 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  45 

xii.  At  this  point  a  slave  rushed  in,  and  re- 
ported that  Charicles  had  been  killed  by  a  fall 
from  his  horse:  After  running  two  or  three 
courses,  he  had  let  go  the  reins,  and,  still  seated, 
was  wiping  the  sweat  from  the  horse's  back, 
when  upon  a  sudden  noise  the  horse  ran  furiously 
away,  rushed  haphazard  into  a  wood,  dashed  his 
rider  off  against  a  tree,  and  trampled  him  as  he 
lay  entangled  in  the  reins.  (Detailed  description 
of  the  horse  in  action :  he  is  like  a  ship  in  a  storm ; 
his  hind  feet  try  to  overtake  his  forefeet,  etc., 
etc.)  xiii.  Clinias,  at  first  struck  dumb  by  sor- 
row, now  uttered  loud  cries ;  and  we  went  to 
where  the  body  had  been  carried — all  one  wound. 
Charicles's  father  lamented :  "  111  betide  all  horse- 
manship !  Others  who  die,  though  their  soul  be 
fled,  preserve  at  least  the  beautiful  semblance  of 
their  body — some  poor  solace  to  the  mourner; 
but  in  thee  Fortune  has  destroyed  both  soul  and 
body,  and  thou  hast  died  a  double  death.  What 
now  shall  be  thy  wedding-day?  Thou  hast  gone 
from  bridal  to  burial ;  malignant  Fortune  has 
quenched  the  marriage  torch,  and  instead  the 
funeral  torch  shall  be  kindled  for  thee."  xiv. 
Clinias,  vying  with  the  father  in  grief,  exclaimed : 
'  Tis  I  that  have  caused  his  death :  to  this  beau- 
tiful youth  I  gave  a  savage  brute.  I  decked  the 
murderer  with  gold.  Beast !  insensible  to  beauty, 
ungrateful  to  him  that  fondled  and  fed  thee ! " 

xv.  When  the  funeral  was  over,  I  hastened  to 
Leucippe,  who  was  in  the  garden  (Garden  elabo- 
rately described)  with  a  slave  Clio,  looking  at 
the  peacock,  xvi-xix.  Just  then  he  spread  his 
tail  and  showed  the  amphitheatre  of  his  feathers ; 


46  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

this  I  made  the  occasion  of  my  speech,  as  I 
wished  to  lead  Leucippe's  thoughts  to  love. 
"  The  bird,"  I  said  to  a  slave  Satyrus,  "  spreads 
his  tail  to  attract  his  mate  there  under  the  plane- 
tree:  it  is  for  her  that  he  displays  the  field  of 
his  feathers.  But  his  field  is  more  blooming 
than  the  meadow  itself;  for  it  has  gold,  and 
purple  rings,  and  an  eye  in  each  ring."  Falling 
in  with  my  purpose,  Satyrus  asked ;  "  Can  love 
kindle  even  the  birds  ?  "  "  Why  not,"  I  answered, 
"  when  he  himself  is  winged?  More  than  that, — 
he  kindles  reptiles  and  beasts,  plants  and  stones. 
The  magnet  loves  the  iron ;  the  male  palm  droops 
for  love  of  the  female,  and  his  pangs  are  allayed 
whe«  the  husbandman  engrafts  upon  his  heart  a 
shoot  from  her.  So  of  waters:  Alpheus  crosses 
the  sea  to  Arethusa,  bringing  to  her  as  wedding- 
gifts  the  objects  cast  into  his  waters  by  cele- 
brants at  Olympia.  As  for  serpents — the  viper, 
amorous  of  the  lamprey,  ejects  his  poison;  and 
then  they  embrace."  Leucippe  seemed  to  listen 
not  unwillingly  to  this  amatory  discourse.  Her 
beauty  surpassed  that  of  the  peacock,  and  vied 
with  that  of  the  meadow;  her  complexion  was 
like  the  narcissus,  her  cheeks  like  the  rose,  her 
eyes  like  the  violet,  her  hair  like  tendrils  of  ivy : 
so  that  "  there  was  a  garden  in  her  face."  Soon 
she  went  away  to  practise  upon  the  harp;  and 
Satyrus  and  I  congratulated  each  other  upon  our 
tact. 

Book  II 

i.    We    followed,   to  hear  her  performance. 
She  sang  first  Homer's  combat  of  the  lion  and 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  47 

the  boar  (II.  XVI.  823;  B  371  n.),  then  the 
praises  of  the  rose ;  and  as  she  sang,  I  seemed  to 
see  a  rose  upon  her  lips,  as  if  the  flower's  cup 
had  been  changed  into  them,  ii-iii.  We  pro- 
ceeded to  supper.  It  was  the  feast  of  Dionysus 
patron  of  the  vintage,  whom  the  Tyrians  claim 
for  their  own  god.  (Legend  of  the  origin  of 
wine.)  On  the  table  was  a  crystal  winecup,  of 
beautiful  workmanship :  from  the  vines  engraved 
upon  it  hung  clusters  of  grapes,  unripe  and  green 
when  it  was  empty,  ripe  and  red  when  it  was 
filled:  and  among  them  was  Bacchus  himself 
as  vine-dresser.  As  the  wine  warmed  us,  Leu- 
cippe  and  I  gazed  more  boldly  at  each  other ;  for 
wine  is  the  food  of  Love.  Eros  kindles  the 
flame,  and  Bacchus  feeds  it. 

Thus  ten  days  passed,  neither  of  us  obtaining, 
or  even  seeking,  aught  but  glances,  iv.  Then  I 
confided  in  Satyrus,  who  said  he  had  known  my 
secret,  but  for  fear  of  offending  me  had  dis- 
sembled his  knowledge.  "  Chance  favors  us," 
he  continued,  "  for  I  have  an  amorous  under- 
standing with  Clio,  who  has  charge  of  Leucippe's 
chamber.  But  now  you  must  do  more  than  look. 
(Ars  Amatoria.)  Take  courage,  Eros  is  no 
coward;  see  how  he  is  armed  with  bow  and 
quiver,  arrows  and  fire,  all  virile  and  daring.  I 
will  arrange  with  Clio  to  give  you  an  interview 
alone  with  Leucippe."  v-vi.  He  departed,  and 
I  was  soliloquizing,  when  Leucippe  entered  alone. 
I  turned  pale  and  then  red,  but  chance  came  to 
my  assistance,  vii-viii.  The  day  before,  a  bee 
had  stung  Clio's  hand,  and  Leucippe  had  mur- 


48  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

mured  over  it  a  spell  which  had  relieved  the  pain. 
This  I  had  observed.  It  happened  now  that 
perceiving  a  bee  or  wasp  flying  about  my  face,  I 
conceived  the  idea  of  feigning  that  my  lip  was 
stung.  The  stratagem  succeeded:  Leucippe  ap- 
proached her  lips  to  mine  in  order  to  repeat  her 
incantations,  and  thus  gave  me  the  opportunity 
to  kiss  her — at  first  clandestinely,  then  openly. 
But  my  pain,  as  I  told  her,  was  only  aggravated ; 
now  the  sting  penetrated  to  my  heart.  "You 
must  carry  a  bee  upon  your  lips,"  said  I,  "  for 
your  kisses  are  both  honeyed  and  stinging."  Just 
then  we  saw  Clio  approaching,  and  parted.  I 
felt  encouraged.  I  guarded  Leucippe's  kiss  upon 
my  lips  as  if  it  were  a  corporeal  treasure  left 
there.  (The  Praise  of  the  Kiss.)  ix-x.  At 
supper,  Satyrus  interchanged  my  cup  with 
Leucippe's,  upon  which  I  kissed  the  place  her 
lips  had  touched ;  and  when  the  cups  were  again 
exchanged,  she  imitated  me.  Thus  we  passed 
the  time  in  drinking  kisses  to  one  another.  After 
supper  Satyrus  notified  me  that  Leucippe's 
mother  had  gone  to  bed  unwell,  and  that  he 
should  draw  off  Clio.  This  was  my  opportunity. 
Armed  with  wine,  love,  hope  and  solitude,  I  em- 
braced Leucippe  boldly,  and  would  have  done 
more,  when  we  heard  a  noise,  and  parted  again. 
It  was  made  by  Satyrus,  who,  keeping  watch, 
had  heard  someone  coming. 

xi.  My  father  now  made  preparations  to  con- 
clude my  marriage  at  once :  he  had  dreamed  that 
while  he  was  celebrating  the  nuptial  rites,  the 
torches  were  suddenly  extinguished.  He  there- 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  49 

fore  hastened  the  purchase  of  the  wedding- 
clothes  and  jewels.  Among  the  latter  was  a 
necklace,  containing  a  rosy  hyacinth  and  a  golden 
glowing  amethyst  and  three  other  stones  set 
together  so  that  they  resembled  an  eye.  Among 
the  former  was  a  purple  robe  bordered  with  gold. 
Its  dye  was  the  genuine  Tyrian,  such  as  dyes 
the  robe  of  Aphrodite  herself.  (Description  of 
necklace  and  of  robe.  Legend  of  discovery  of 
the  purple-fish.)  xii.  The  marriage  being  fixed 
for  the  morrow,  my  father  was  sacrificing,  when 
an  eagle  swooped  down  and  bore  off  the  victim. 
By  reason  of  this  unfavorable  omen,  the  marriage 
was  postponed ;  and  the  soothsayers  prescribed  a 
midnight  sacrifice  to  Zeus  Xenios  upon  the  sea- 
shore, as  the  eagle  had  flown  that  way. 

xiii.  Now  before  the  war  there  lived  in  Byzan- 
tium a  young,  wealthy  and  profligate  orphan 
named  Callisthenes,  who  upon  hearsay  fell  in 
love  with  Leucippe,  though  he  had  never  seen 
her.  Her  hand  being  refused  him  because  of  his 
profligacy,  he  resolved  to  carry  her  off.  xiv. 
Then  the  war  broke  out,  and  Callisthenes  learned 
that  Leucippe  had  been  sent  to  us ;  but  his  plan 
was  aided  by  an  oracle  rendered  to  the  Byzan- 
tines :  "  There  is  an  is1  \nd  whose  inhabitants  bear 
the  name  of  a  plant;  this  land  makes  both  a 
strait  and  an  isthmus  with  the  shore;  there 
Hephaestus  rejoices  in  the  possession  of  blue- 
eyed  Pallas :  thither  I  command  you  to  bear 
sacrifices  to  Hercules."  This  oracle  Sostratus 
himself,  who  was  one  of  the  Byzantine  com- 
manders, interpreted  as  meaning  Tyre:  for  the 


50  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Phoenicians  derive  their  name  from  that  of  the 
palm-tree;  the  city  is  in  fact  connected  with  the 
mainland  by  an  isthmus,  under  which  the  sea 
nevertheless  flows  in  a  strait;  and  certain  sacred 
olive-trees  (Pallas)  nearby,  are  fertilized  by  the 
ashes  of  fires  (Hephaestus)  burning  round  them. 
This  interpretation  was  approved  by  Chaerephon, 
Sostratus's  colleague,  (who  added  other  mar- 
vels: a  Sicilian  spring  where  fire  mingles  with 
the  water, — the  water  aot  quenching  the  fire,  the 
fire  not  heating  the  water ;  a  river  in  Spain,  which 
emits  musical  sounds  when  the  wind,  like  a  plec- 
trum upon  a  lyre,  plays  upon  its  surface;  and  a 
lake  in  Libya,  so  rich  in  gold,  like  the  soil  of 
India,  that  the  Libyan  maidens  by  merely  plung- 
ing into  it  a  pitch-smeared  pole — the  pitch  being 
hook  and  bait  as  it  were — fish  out  the  gold.)  xv. 
In  obedience  to  this  oracle  a  sacred  embassy 
came  to  Tyre ;  and  one  of  its  members  was  Callis- 
thenes  himself.  The  sacrifice  was  most  sumptu- 
ous. Incense  of  cassia,  frankincense  and  crocus 
vied  with  flowers — narcissus,  roses  and  myrtle — 
to  perfume  the  air,  so  that  there  was  a  gale 
of  sweetness.  (Sacrifice  and  victims  described.) 
xvi-xviii.  As  my  stepmother  was  unwell,  and 
as  Leucippe  feigned  illness  in  order  that  we  might 
have  a  meeting,  Calligone  and  Leucippe's  mother 
went  together  to  view  the  sacrifice.  Callisthenes 
consequently  supposing  Calligone  to  be  Leucippe 
(for  he  recognized  Leucippe's  mother  Panthea, 
the  wife  of  Sostratus)  and  in  fact  much  taken 
with  the  beauty  of  Calligone  herself,  pointed  her 
out  to  a  slave,  with  directions  that  she  be  ab- 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  51 

ducted  by  pirates  during  another  ceremony  to  be 
performed  by  the  maidens  upon  the  sea-shore. 
The  sacred  mission  performed,  he  withdrew  in 
his  own  ship,  with  the  other  Byzantine  ships,  but 
put  in  at  Sarapta,  not  far  off.  There  he  bought 
a  small  boat,  which  his  slave  Zeno — himself  a 
sturdy  rogue — manned  with  piratical  fishermen  of 
the  neighborhood  and  sailed  to  an  island  called 
Rhodope's  Tomb,  quite  near  the  city.  There  they 
lay  in  ambush.  But  Callisthenes  was  not  obliged 
to  await  the  maiden's  ceremony.  For  the  event 
portended  by  the  eagle  took  place  at  the  very 
sacrifice  which  was  intended  to  avert  it.  We  had 
all  gone  to  the  shore  to  make  our  offering  to 
Zeus,  Zeno  observing  us  closely.  At  his  signal 
the  boat  from  Rhodope's  Tomb  sailed  in  with  ten 
young  fellows  aboard ;  eight  others  disguised  as 
women,  but  armed,  were  among  the  celebrants. 
These  all  together,  shouting  and  drawing  their 
swords,  rushed  upon  us  and  made  off  with  Calli- 
gone  in  their  boat,  which  sailed  away  like  a  bird. 
Off  Sarapta,  Callisthenes  took  her  aboard  and 
escaped  to  the  open  sea.  In  our  confusion  we 
could  do  nothing.  I  breathed  freely  when  I 
found  my  marriage  so  unexpectedly  broken  off, 
but  couldn't  help  feeling  sorry  for  Calligone ! 

xix.  Now  I  continued  to  court  Leucippe,  and 
at  length  persuaded  her  to  receive  me  at  night 
in  her  chamber.  Panthea,  who  accompanied 
Leu-ippe  to  bed,  always  had  the  door  locked  in- 
side and  out ;  but  Satyrus  had  the  keys  dupli- 
cated, and  gained  over  Clio.  xx.  Conops,  a 
slanderous,  gluttonous  slave  in  the  house,  suspect- 


52  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

ing  our  plans,  kept  watch  with  his  door  open,  so 
that  it  was  difficult  to  escape  his  observation. 
Satyrus,  wishing  to  win  him,  joked  with  him 
about  his  name  (Gnat).  Conops  pretended  to 
return  the  joke,  but  in  fact  showed  his  ill-nature 
by  telling  this  fable  of  the  gnat :  xxi.  "  The  lion 
complained  that,  though  Prometheus  had  created 
him  the  most  formidable  of  beasts,  he  was  yet 
afraid  of  the  cock.  Prometheus  answered  that 
the  lion's  own  cowardice  was  to  blame;  whereat 
the  lion  wished  for  death  rather  than  such  dis- 
grace. But  then  he  happened  to  meet  the  ele- 
phant, whose  great  ears,  he  observed,  were  in- 
cessantly flapping.  'Why  not  give  your  ears  a 
rest  ? '  asked  the  lion."  '  See  that  gnat  ? '  replied 
the  elephant.  '  If  he  once  gets  into  my  ear,  I'm 
done  for.'  '  At  any  rate,'  the  lion  thought,  '  I'm 
at  least  as  much  luckier  than  the  elephant,  as  a 
cock  is  mightier  than  a  gnat ! '  And  he  decided 
to  live  on.  Now  you  see,"  concluded  Conops, 
"  the  gnat  is  not  so  inconsiderable  after  all :  even 
the  elephant  fears  him."  Satyrus  saw  the  covert 
meaning.  "  By  all  means  make  the  most  of  your 
fable,"  said  he,  "  but  let  me  tell  you  another : 
xxii.  The  boastful  gnat  said  to  the  lion:  'You 
think  yourself  the  most  valorous  of  beasts — you 
that  scratch  and  bite  like  a  woman !  Your  size  ? 
Your  beauty? — to  be  sure,  you  have  a  big  chest 
and  shoulders,  and  a  bristly  mane — but  how 
about  the  rest  of  you?  As  for  me,  the  whole 
expanse  of  air  is  mine;  my  beauty  is  that  of  all 
the  flowery  meads,  which  I  put  on  or  off  at  will 
when  I  alight  or  when  I  fly.  Nor  is  my  strength 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  53 

to  be  despised,  for  I  am  all  a  weapon — at  once  a 
trumpet  and  a  javelin,  at  once  a  bow  and  an 
arrow,  at  once  the  warrior  and  his  dart.  I  am 
there  and  away  in  a  moment ;  in  an  instant  I  stay 
and  go.  I  ride  all  round  my  victim,  and  laugh 
at  him  as  he  dances  about  to  find  me.  But 
enough  of  words !  Come,  let's  have  it  out.' 
And  he  stung  the  lion's  lips,  he  jumped  into  his 
eyes ;  he  stung  him  where  the  hair  was  short ! 
The  lion  snapped  and  gasped  and  writhed  in 
vain :  the  gnat  slipped  between  his  very  teeth — 
his  empty  gnashing  teeth!  At  length,  wearied 
out  with  fighting  shadows,  the  lion  lay  down; 
and  the  gnat  flew  off,  trumpeting  victory.  As  he 
circled  more  and  more  widely  in  his  triumph,  he 
flew  into  a  spider's  web,  which  he  had  failed  to 
notice ;  but  the  spider  didn't  fail  to  notice  him ! 
So,"  ended  Satyrus  with  a  laugh,  "  ware  spiders." 
xxiii.  A  few  days  later,  Satyrus  asked  Conops 
to  supper,  and  drugged  his  last  cup  of  wine,  so 
that  Conops  fell  asleep  as  soon  as  he  reached  his 
room.  Then  Satyrus  called  me,  and  we  went 
together  to  Leucippe's  chamber.  Satyrus  re- 
mained at  the  door,  and  Clio  admitted  me,  torn 
between  conflicting  hope  and  fear,  joy  and  pain. 
At  that  moment  Panthea  had  a  horrible  dream: 
a  robber  armed  with  a  naked  sword  threw 
Leucippe  on  the  ground  and  disembowelled  her. 
Frightened  out  of  her  sleep,  Panthea  ran  to 
Leucippe's  room,  which  she  reached  just  as  I 
had  gotten  into  bed.  When  I  heard  the  door 
open,  I  leaped  out  and  ran  through  the  door,  and 
Satyrus  and  I  each  escaped  to  his  own  room. 


54  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

xxiv.  First  Panthea  fainted;  then  she  boxed 
Clio's  ears ;  then  she  reproached  Leucippe : 
"What  a  wedding  is  this!  Better  have  been 
ravished  in  the  war ;  then  your  misfortune  would 
have  been  free  from  dishonor :  as  it  is,  you  suffer 
misfortune  and  dishonor  too.  What  a  fulfilment 
of  my  dream!  Alas,  who  did  it — some  slave?" 
xxv.  Sure  that  I  had  escaped,  Leucippe  replied : 
"Your  reproaches  are  undeserved.  I  know  not 
who  that  person  may  have  been — whether  a  god, 
a  demigod,  or  a  burglar;  all  I  know  is,  I  was  so 
frightened  I  couldn't  cry  out.  But  my  virginity 
is  intact."  Panthea  fell  down  again,  groaning. 
Meanwhile  Satyrus  and  I  resolved  to  get  away 
before  day,  when  Clio  under  torture  would  have 
to  confess  everything,  xxvi-xxvii.  Telling  the 
porter  we  were  going  to  our  mistresses,  we  be- 
took ourselves  to  Clinias ;  and  while  we  were  in 
the  street  trying  to  rouse  him,  Clio  joined  us,  de- 
termined to  escape  the  torture.  Accordingly 
Clio  was  taken  off  by  boat  in  the  care  of  one  of 
Clinias's  slaves ;  but  we  agreed  to  stay  long 
enough  to  persuade  Leucippe  to  escape;  if  she 
would  not,  we  too  should  remain,  and  commit 
ourselves  to  Fortune.  So  we  took  a  short  sleep, 
and  returned  home  at  daybreak,  xxviii.  Pan- 
thea now  demanded  Clio  for  the  torture,  but 
couldn't  find  her.  Returning  therefore  to  Leu- 
cippe, she  cried:  "Why  don't  you  tell  me  the 
trick  of  this  plot?  Here's  Clio  run  away!" 
Leucippe,  still  further  reassured,  offered  to  sub- 
mit to  a  test  of  her  virginity.  "  Yes,"  said  her 
mother,  "and  call  witnesses  to  our  dishonor!" 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  55 

And  she  flung  out  of  the  room.  xxix.  Leucippe 
was  sorrowful,  ashamed,  and  angry,  all  at  once — 
sorrowful  because  she  had  been  caught,  ashamed 
at  her  mother's  reproaches,  angry  because  her 
word  had  been  doubted.  (Shame,  sorrow,  and 
anger:  their  causes  and  effects.)  xxx.  Hence, 
when  I  sent  Satyrus  to  sound  her  on  the  ques- 
tion of  an  elopement,  she  anticipated  him,  beg- 
ging to  be  taken  from  her  mother's  sight.  Dur- 
ing my  father's  absence  on  a  journey,  we  spent 
two  days  in  preparation,  xxxi.  At  supper  on 
the  second  Hay,  Satyrus  drugged  Panthea, 
drugged  Leucippe's  new  chambermaid  (whom  he 
had  won  over  by  making  feigned  love  to  her), 
and  drugged  the  porter !  ( Conops  happened  to  be 
absent  on  an  errand.)  Then  Leucippe  and  I, 
Satyrus,  and  two  servants,  entered  a  carriage  in 
which  Clinias  was  waiting  for  us  at  the  door; 
and  drove  to  Sidon,  and  on  to  Berytus,  where 
we  found  a  vessel  ready  to  sail.  Without  in- 
quiring her  destination,  we  embarked,  and  then 
learned  that  she  was  bound  for  Alexandria, 
xxxii-xxxiii.  With  much  confusion  she  got 
under  way,  and  left  the  harbor.  A  courteous 
young  fellow-passenger,  who  made  common  stock 
of  provisions  with  us,  gave  his  name  as  Menelaus, 
an  Egyptian.  Clinias  and  I  also  told  him  our 
names  and  country.  Upon  his  inquiring  our 
reason  for  this  voyage,  we  asked  him  to  begin  by 
relating  his  own.  (xxxiv.  While  hunting,  he 
had  accidentally  killed  his  favorite ;  and  he  was 
now  returning  from  banishment  for  this  offense. 
Clinias  wept,  remembering  Charicles,  and  upon 


56  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Menelaus's  inquiry,  told  him  that  story)  and  I 
told  mine.  To  enliven  their  sadness,  I  proposed 
an  amatory  discussion, — Leucippe  being  absent, 
asleep  below.  "  Clinias  is  lucky,"  said  I ; 
"  always  inveighing  against  women,  he  now  finds 
in  you  a  companion  of  similar  tastes."  (Discus- 
sion: boys  vs.  women  (xxxvi-xxxviii).) 

Book  III 

i-ii.  On  the  third  day  a  gale  came  up. 
(Storm  vividly  described.)  iii-iv.  Wearied  out, 
the  helmsman  abandoned  the  tiller,  got  ready  the 
boat,  and  ordering  the  sailors  to  embark,  himself 
took  the  lead  ( ! ) .  They  were  about  to  cut  loose 
when  the  passengers  also  tried  to  jump  in.  The 
sailors  threatened  them  with  knives  and  axes; 
the  passengers  armed  themselves  with  what 
they  could  find — broken  oars  and  benches;  a 
novel  sea-fight  ensued.  (Fight  described.)  The 
ship  soon  struck  a  sunken  rock  and  went  to 
pieces.  Those  who  were  drowned  at  once  were 
happier  than  those  who  survived  to  drown  later, 
for  a  lingering  death  by  drowning  is  fearful  be- 
yond measure:  the  eye  has  death  before  it  con- 
tinually in  a  shape  vast  and  overwhelming  as  the 
sea  itself.  Some  were  dashed  against  rocks  and 
perished,  others  were  impaled  on  broken  spars 
like  fish ;  some  swam  about  half-dead,  v.  Leu- 
cippe and  I  floated  upon  a  fragment  of  the  prow, 
which  some  good  genius  had  preserved  for  us. 
Menelaus  and  Satyrus  and  some  other  passengers 
had  a  bit  of  mast;  and  Clinias  rode  the  waves 
upon  a  spar,  calling  "  Hold  fast,  Clitophon ! " 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  57 

Just  then  a  wave  washed  over  him,  and  we  cried 
out;  but  rolling  towards  us,  by  good  luck  it 
passed,  and  we  again  caught  sight  of  Clinias  and 
the  spar  on  the  crest  of  the  sea.  I  prayed  to 
Poseidon  to  save  us  or  give  us  a  speedy  death ; 
and  if  death,  then  death  together  and  a  common 
tomb — even  in  one  fish.  Soon  the  wind  abated 
and  the  waves  subsided.  Menelaus  and  his 
companions  were  cast  upon  a  part  of  the  Egyp- 
tian coast  at  that  time  the  haunt  of  brigands. 
Leucippe  and  I  at  evening  came  by  chance  to 
Pelusium,  where  landing  we  thanked  the  gods 
and  bewailed  Clinias  and  Satyrus,  believing 
them  to  have  perished,  vi.  (Description  of  the 
statue  of  Zeus  Casius.)  Having  made  our 
prayers,  and  asked  tidings  of  Clinias  and  Saty- 
rus,— for  the  god  was  held  to  be  prophetic, — we 
saw  at  the  rear  of  the  temple  two  paintings  by 
Evanthes,  (one  of  Andromeda,  the  other  of 
Prometheus.  Their  having  so  much  in  common 
had  probably  led  the  painter  to  treat  them 
together :  both  were  prisoners  upon  rocks ;  both 
had  a  beast  for  executioner — one  marine,  the 
other  aerial;  both  had  an  Argive  deliverer — 
Perseus  and  Hercules  respectively — the  one 
aiming  at  the  bird  of  Zeus,  the  other  at  the 
monster  of  Poseidon,  vii.  Andromeda  lay  in  a 
hollow  of  the  rock  as  large  as  her  body, — a 
natural  hollow,  as  its  surface  showed.  'A 
statue' — you  would  have  said,  if  you  looked  at 
her  beauty,  but  if  at  the  chains  and  the  monster — 
'  A  tomb.'  Beauty  and  fear  were  mingled  in  her 
countenance,  beauty  blooming  in  her  eyes,  fear 


58  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

paling  her  cheeks;  yet  were  her  cheeks  not  so 
pale  but  that  they  were  tinged  with  color,  nor 
her  eyes  so  lovely  but  that  they  languished  like 
fading  violets.  Thus  the  painter  had  adorned 
her  with  beautiful  fear.  Her  arms  were 
chained;  her  wrists  and  fingers  hanging  like 
clusters  of  the  vine;  arms  white,  fingers  blood- 
less; attire  bridal,  white,  of  fine  silken  texture. 
The  monster :  only  his  head  was  above  water,  the 
jaws  open  to  his  shoulders;  but  his  body  was 
visible  in  outline  beneath — with  scales,  spines, 
and  tail.  Perseus  was  descending  from  the  sky, 
his  mantle  about  his  shoulders,  his  body  naked ; 
winged  sandals  on  his  feet,  and  on  his  head  a 
cap  like  Hades's.  His  left  hand  grasped  as  a 
shield  the  Gorgon's  head  with  its  glaring  eyes  and 
bristling  snakes,  his  right  of  weapon  half  sword 
half  sickle — a  straight  blade  in  common,  then  a 
division  into  two — one  proceeding  to  the  point, 
the  other  bent  round  into  a  hook.  viii.  Prome- 
theus was  shown  chained  to  the  rock ;  against  his 
thigh  the  bird,  braced  upon  the  points  of  his 
talons  and  with  his  beak  searching  the  wound 
for  his  victim's  liver,  which  appeared  in  the  open- 
ing; Prometheus's  one  thigh  was  contracted  in 
pain,  the  other  stretched  tense  to  the  very  toes ; 
his  face  convulsed,  eyebrows  contracted,  lips 
drawn,  teeth  visible:  you  could  almost  pity  the 
picture.  Hercules  stood  armed  with  a  bow,  and 
the  shaft  already  on  it.  The  left  hand  held  the 
bow ;  the  right  drew  the  string  to  his  breast — all 
in  a  moment.  Prometheus  was  divided  between 
hope  and  fear;  with  hope  he  looked  toward  his 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  59 

deliverer,  and  with   fear  back  to  his  wounded 
side.) 

ix.  From  Pelusium  we  were  proceeding  on  a 
hired  vessel  up  the  Nile  to  Alexandria,  when, 
opposite  a  town,  we  heard  a  shout — "  The  Herds- 
men ! "  and  saw  the  bank  thronged  with  savage- 
looking  men  of  black  complexion,  like  mongrel 
Ethiopians.  Four  of  them  boarded  us,  carried 
away  everything  on  the  boat  including  our  money, 
took  us  ashore  bound,  and  left  us  in  a  hut,  with 
guards  who  were  to  take  us  next  day  to  their 
chief,  x.  That  night,  I  silently  soliloquized  upon 
the  calamities  I  had  brought  upon  Leucippe : 
"  Our  case  would  be  sorry  enough  had  we  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  Greeks ;  but  there  at  least  our 
supplications  would  be  understood.  Here,  charm 
I  like  a  Siren,  I  plead  to  deaf  ears ;  I  am  reduced 
to  gestures ;  I  must  perform  mv  lamentations  in 
pantomimic  dance.  But  faithful  tender  Leu- 
cippe— what  preparations  are  these  for  thy  wed- 
ding! Thy  bridal  chamber  a  prison,  the  earth 
thv  bed,  thy  necklace  a  noose,  thy  bridesman  a 
thief,  tears  for  thy  nuptial  hymn.  O  sea,  in 
sparing:  us  thoti  hast  destroyed  us."  xi.  Thus  I 
lamented,  tearlessly;  (for  though  tears  flow 
freelv  enougfh  in  ordinary  griefs  and  relieve  the 
swelling  of  the  heart,  excessive  sorrow  turns 
them  back  upon  their  fount,  so  that,  returning, 
thev  exasperate  the  wound  of  the  soul.)  Leu- 
cippe too  being  silent.  I  asked  her  why  she  did 
not  speak  to  me.  "The  death  of  my  soul,"  she 
answered,  "has  been  anticipated  by  the  death  of 
my  voice."  xii.  At  daybreak,  a  shag-haired 


60  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

villain  on  a  shaggy  horse  rode  up  bareback,  with 
orders  to  bring  away  for  sacrifice  any  maiden  he 
might  find.  Leucippe,  who  clung  shrieking  to 
me,  they  dragged  away.  Me  they  beat,  and  left 
with  the  other  prisoners  to  follow  more  slowly, 
xiii.  A  little  way  from  the  village  we  were  over- 
taken by  a  body  of  about  fifty  soldiers.  The 
brigands  resisted,  pelting  them  with  rough  stony 
clods  of  earth,  which  the  heavy-armed  troops  re- 
ceived on  their  long  shields  with  impunity. 
Then,  when  their  assailants  were  tired,  they 
opened  their  ranks,  and  allowed  the  light  armed 
troops  to  issue  forth.  These,  supported  by  the 
heavy  troops,  attacked  the  pirates  with  swords 
and  spears.  At  length  the  majority  of  the  pirates 
were  cut  to  pieces  by  a  body  of  cavalry  which 
came  up ;  and  we  prisoners  were  taken  by  the 
soldiers  and  sent  to  the  rear.  xiv.  That  evening 
the  commander  (Charmides:  named  IV.  ii) 
heard  our  story,  and  promised  to  arm  us  all,  as 
he  meant  to  attack  the  pirates'  stronghold.  At 
my  request  he  gave  me  a  horse  too,  which  I  put 
through  its  military  paces,  to  his  admiration. 
Then  he  made  me  his  guest,  listened  more  par- 
ticularly to  my  troubles,  and  expressed  his 
sympathy  by  tears.  (Sympathy  often  leads  to 
friendship.)  He  also  gave  me  an  Egyptian  ser- 
vant, xv.  Next  morning  we  perceived  the 
pirates  before  us,  on  the  far  side  of  a  trench, 
which  it  was  our  object  to  fill  up.  Near  it  was 
an  extemporized  altar  of  clay,  and  a  coffin.  Soon 
two  men,  whom  I  could  not  make  out  because 
of  their  armor,  led  Leucippe,  whom  I  saw  plainly, 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  6 1 

to  the  altar,  a  priest  all  the  while  chanting,  as 
appeared  from  the  position  of  his  mouth  and  the 
distortion  of  his  face.  Then  all  the  rest  retired 
from  the  altar;  and  one  of  the  two  bound  Leu- 
cippe  on  the  ground  to  four  pegs,  like  an  image 
of  Marsyas,  and  with  a  sword  disembowelled 
her.  They  roasted  the  entrails  upon  the  altar, 
and  distributed  them  among  the  pirates,  who  ate 
them.  Amid  the  shout  of  horror  that  rose  from 
our  army,  I  was  thunderstruck  into  silence. 
Niobe's  fabled  metamorphosis  may  have  been 
some  such  paralysis  by  grief.  The  two  men 
placed  the  body  in  a  coffin,  covered  it  with  a  lid, 
and,  after  throwing  down  the  altar,  hurried  back 
to  their  companions  without  looking  behind  them, 
as  the  priest  had  commanded. 

xvi.  By  evening  we  had  filled  and  crossed  the 
trench,  and  I  went  to  the  coffin  prepared  to  stab 
myself.  "  Leucippe,"  I  cried,  "  thy  death  is 
lamentable  not  only  because  violent  and  in  a 
strange  land,  but  because  thou  hast  been  sacri- 
ficed to  purify  the  most  impure;  because  thou 
didst  look  upon  thine  own  anatomy ;  because  thy 
body  and  thy  bowels  have  received  an  accursed 
sepulchre, — the  one  here,  the  other  in  such  wise 
that  their  burial  has  become  the  nourishment  of 
robbers.  And  this  the  gods  saw  unmoved,  and 
accepted  such  an  offering!  But  now  receive 
from  me  thy  fitting  libation."  xvii.  About  to 
cut  my  throat,  I  saw  two  men  running  up,  and 
paused,  thinking  that  they  were  pirates  and  would 
kill  me.  They  were  Menelaus  and  Satyrus! 
Still  I  could  not  rejoice  in  their  safety,  and  I 


6a  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

resisted  their  attempt  to  take  my  sword.  "  If  you 
deprive  me  of  this  sword,  wherewith  I  would 
end  my  sorrows  in  death,  the  inward  sword  of 
my  grief  will  inflict  deathless  sorrows  upon  me. 
Let  me  die:  Leucippe  dead,  I  will  not  live." 
"  Leucippe  lives ! "  said  Menelaus,  and,  tapping 
upon  the  coffin,  he  summoned  her  to  testify  to  his 
veracity.  Leucippe  actually  rose,  disembowelled 
as  she  was,  and  rushed  to  my  embrace,  xviii. 
"  Soon,"  Menelaus  replied  to  my  astonished  ques- 
tions, "you  shall  see  her  intact;  but  cover  your 
face: — I'm  going  to  invoke  Hecate."  I  did  so; 
whereupon  he  muttered  words  of  marvel ;  at  the 
same  time  removing  certain  contrivances  from 
Leucippe's  body.  Then,  "  Uncover,"  said  he, 
which  I  did  fearfully,  for  I  thought  to  see 
Hecate.  But  I  saw  only  Leucippe,  unharmed ! 
Menelaus  now  began  to  satisfy  my  curiosity: 
xix.  "  I  am,  you  remember,  an  Egyptian :  in 
fact,  I  own  property  about  this  very  village,  and 
know  the  people  there.  After  I  had  been  cast 
ashore  and  taken  to  the  pirate  chief,  some  of 
the  pirates  recognized  me,  struck  off  my  chains, 
and  begged  me  to  join  them.  I  consented,  and 
claimed  Satyrus  too  as  my  slave.  He,  they  said, 
would  be  granted  me  if  I  first  gave  proof  of 
courage  in  their  cause.  They  had  just  received 
an  oracle  bidding  them  offer  up  a  maiden,  taste 
her  liver,  put  her  body  in  a  coffin,  and  retire  so 
that  the  enemy  might  take  the  site  of  the  sacri- 
fice." xx-xxii.  Satyrus  now  took  up  the  story. 
"  The  day  before  the  sacrifice,  the  pirates  took  a 
ship  on  which  was  travelling  a  theatrical  reciter 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  63 

of  Homer.  When  the  crew  had  been  killed  and 
the  ship  sunk,  there  floated  ashore  to  us  a  chest, 
unperceived  by  the  pirates.  Among  its  contents 
was  a  stage-sword,  whose  blade  could  be  pushed 
almost  wholly  into  the  hollow  hilt.  It  had  doubt- 
less been  used  to  inflict  mimic  wounds.  I  at  once 
proposed  to  Menelaus  to  procure  a  sheepskin  bag, 
stuff  it  with  guts  and  blood,  and  conceal  it  under 
Leucippe's  dress,  which,  according  to  the  oracle, 
was  not  to  be  removed  for  the  sacrifice.  Mene- 
laus, in  proof  of  his  courage  and  devotion,  as 
demanded  by  the  pirates,  was  to  perform  the  sup- 
posed slaughter — the  blade  to  protrude  at  first 
only  far  enough  to  rip  up  the  bag,  but  afterwards, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  spectators,  to  appear  at  its 
full  length,  covered  with  blood,  as  if  it  had 
actually  pierced  Leucippe's  body.  We  could 
then  lay  her  safely  in  the  coffin,  as  no  one  was  to 
approach.  Menelaus  agreed  to  take  the  risk  for 
friendship's  sake,  especially  as  we  learned,  both 
from  Leucippe  and  from  the  pirates,  that  you, 
Clitophon,  still  lived.  Fortune  co-operated  with 
us ;  for  when  Menelaus  approached  the  pirate 
chief  to  volunteer,  the  chief  imposed  the  task 
upon  him — the  pirates'  law  requiring  new- 
comers to  be  the  first  to  make  sacrifice — and  even 
entrusted  the  victim  to  our  care.  All  was  carried 
out  as  we  had  planned,  and  as  you  saw." 

xxiii.  I  next  inquired  what  had  become  of 
Clinias.  "  I  don't  know,"  said  Menelaus  ;  "  when 
I  last  saw  him,  he  was  clinging  to  the  spar."  In 
the  midst  of  my  joy  I  lamented :  my  happiness 
could  not  be  entire,  as  long  as  he  whom  I  loved 


64  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

next  only  after  Leucippe,  was  lost;  and  I  be- 
wailed his  fate, — not  only  dead  but  unburied. 
Then  we  returned  to  my  tent,  where  we  passed 
the  night.  Our  adventures  soon  became  known. 
xxiv.  At  dawn  I  introduced  Menelaus  to  Char- 
mides,  who  received  him  well,  and  who,  inquiring 
the  strength  of  the  enemy,  learned  that  there 
were  about  ten  thousand.  These,  he  said,  could 
easily  be  beaten  by  his  own  five  thousand,  who 
besides,  were  to  be  reinforced  by  two  thousand 
more  from  the  Delta  and  from  Heliopolis.  At 
that  moment  messengers  arrived  to  say  that  the 
reinforcements  from  the  Delta  would  delay  their 
start  five  days,  because  the  Sacred  Bird,  bear- 
ing its  father's  sepulchre,  had  appeared  among 
the  troops  just  as  they  were  on  the  point  of 
marching,  (xxv.  This  sacred  bird,  they  told 
me,  was  the  Ethiopian  Phoenix.  He  is  of  the 
size  of  a  peacock,  but  of  yet  more  gorgeous 
plumage.  He  owes  allegiance  to  the  sun,  as 
a  mark  of  whose  dominion  he  wears  upon 
his  head  a  radiant  circle.  When  after  many 
years  he  dies,  his  son  hollows  out  a  mass  of 
myrrh  for  the  sepulchre, — wherein  he  bears  the 
body  to  Egypt,  attended  by  many  other  birds  as 
a  guard  of  honor.  Upon  arriving  at  the  City  of 
the  Sun — Heliopolis — he  waits  for  the  priest  to 
appear,  who  bears  from  the  sanctuary  a  book 
containing  a  picture  of  the  Phoenix,  and  thereby 
identifies  the  corpse,  which  the  young  Phoenix 
aids  him  by  exhibiting,  and  so  argues  for  its 
burial :  eo-rtv  e7riTd$to<t  tro^io-T?;?.  There  the 
priests  bury  it.  Thus  the  bird  during  life  is  by 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  65 

its  breeding  an  Ethiopian,  but  after  death,  by  its 
burial,  an  Egyptian.) 

Book  IV 

i.  Charmides  awaited  the  reinforcements  at  the 
village  we  had  left;  and  there  he  assigned  us  a 
house.  Upon  my  urging  Leucippe  to  profit  by 
the  opportunity  Fortune  now  afforded  us,  she 
related  a  dream  she  had  had:  The  night  before, 
when  she  fully  expected  to  be  sacrificed,  Artemis 
had  appeared  to  her,  saying,  "You  shall  be 
saved;  but  remain  a  maid  till  I  lead  thee  to  the 
altar;  and  none  but  Clitophon  shall  be  thy  hus- 
band." Disappointed  as  I  was,  I  was  yet  cheered 
by  this  dream,  especially  as  I  also  recalled  a 
dream  I  had  had  at  the  same  time :  I  saw  Aphro- 
dite's temple,  and  her  statue  within;  but  when  I 
would  have  entered,  the  gates  closed,  and  the 
goddess  said,  "  Thou  mayest  not  enter  as  yet, 
but  wait  a  little,  and  thou  shalt  not  only  enter, 
but  be  my  priest." 

ii.  Charmides,  the  general,  now  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  see  Leucippe,  for  we  went  at  his  invita- 
tion to  see  a  hippopotamus  that  had  been  cap- 
tured. (Hippopotamus  described.)  iii.  Char- 
mides at  once  became  enamored  of  Leucippe, 
(and  to  keep  her  there  gave  us  a  long  account 
of  the  nature  and  food  of  the  animal,  and  of  the 
mode  of  his  capture,  iv-v.  He  furthermore  told 
us  some  curious  things  about  the  elephant.) 

vi.  Charmides  now  sent  for  Menelaus,  and, 
offering  him  money,  requested  his  offices  as 
mediator  with  Leucippe.  Menelaus  refused  the 
6 


66  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

money,  but  promised  to  do  what  he  could,  and 
at  once  came  and  told  me  all.  As  we  could  not 
escape,  and  dared  not  antagonize  Charmides,  we 
resolved  to  deceive  him.  vii.  Accordingly, 
Menelaus  reported  to  Charmides  that  Leucippe 
after  much  difficulty  had  consented,  but  had 
begged  a  respite  till  she  should  reach  Alexandria, 
as  all  here  was  too  public.  Charmides  answered : 
"  Make  Fortune  guarantee  my  safety  till  then, 
and  I  will  wait.  As  it  is,  I  know  not  whether  I 
shall  survive  my  battle  with  the  pirates.  And 
while  I  prepare  for  that  outward  battle,  love 
wounds  and  burns  me  within.  Let  me  have  the 
physician  that  can  heal  these  wounds.  Let  me  at 
least  kiss  Leucippe." 

viii.  Upon  hearing  this  from  Menelaus,  I  de- 
clared I  would  sooner  die  than  permit  another 
to  enjoy  Leucippe's  kisses.  (The  Praise  of  the 
Kiss.)  ix.  While  we  took  counsel,  some  one 
ran  in  to  say  that  Leucippe  had  suddenly  fallen 
in  a  fit.  Running  to  where  she  lay  on  the 
ground,  Menelaus  and  I  tried  to  raise  her;  but 
she  struck  me  in  the  face,  and  kicked  him,  and 
struggled  unseemly.  Charmides,  who  came  up, 
thought  the  scene  preconcerted,  and  looked 
suspiciously  at  Menelaus,  but  was  soon  convinced 
that  the  malady  was  genuine.  We  were  com- 
pelled to  bind  Leucippe.  Then  I  broke  out: 
"  Unbind  her !  those  tender  hands  cannot  endure 
bonds.  My  embrace  shall  be  her  chain — what 
though  her  madness  rage  against  me?  Why 
should  I  live  when  she  knows  me  not?  Was  it 
for  this  that  Fortune  saved  us  from  our  troubles 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  67 

at  home,  from  a  raging  sea,  from  pirates — only 
that  we  might  fall  victims  to  madness?  And 
when  thou  shalt  have  recovered,  mayhap  she 
reserves  some  still  worse  affliction:  so  that  we 
must  fear  even  the  good  luck  of  thy  recovery. 
But  provided  thou  dost  indeed  recover,  let  For- 
tune sport  as  she  will."  x.  Menelaus  opined 
that  this  sickness  was  nothing  extraordinary,  but 
normally  incident  to  youth,  when  the  blood,  boil- 
ing through  the  veins,  overflows  the  brain  and 
drowns  the  spirit  of  reason.  He  readily  pro- 
cured from  Charmides  the  services  of  the  army 
physician.  A  pill  dissolved  in  oil  and  rubbed  on 
Leucippe's  head  according  to  the  doctor's  orders, 
put  her  to  sleep — a  first  step  in  the  cure.  I  sat 
by  her  awake  all  night,  and  lamented :  "  Even  in 
sleep  thou  are  enchained.  Are  thy  dreams 
rational,  or  are  they  frenzied  like  thy  waking 
thoughts  ?  "  She  awoke  still  delirious. 

xi.  Letters  now  came  from  the  Satrap  of 
Egypt,  which  must  have  ordered  an  immediate 
attack  upon  the  robbers;  for  Charmides  got  his 
forces  under  arms,  and  next  day  moved  them 
against  the  enemy.  (The  Nile,  which  down  to 
a  place  called  Cercasorus  is  one  stream,  there 
divides  into  three.  The  middle  one  flows  on 
as  before,  and  forms  the  Delta,  but  all  are 
again  divided  and  subdivided.  They  are  navi- 
gable and  potable  throughout,  and  fertilize  the 
land.  xii.  In  fact,  the  Nile  is  everything  to 
the  Egyptians, — sea  and  land,  swamp  and 
river.  There  you  see — strange  spectacle — the 
ship  and  the  plow,  etc.,  together;  where  you 


68  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

have  sailed,  you  sow,  and  anon  your  field  has 
become  a  sea.  The  river  punctually  rises  upon 
the  expected  day.  Then  land  and  water  strug- 
gle, and  neither  gains  the  victory,  for  they  are 
co-extensive.  In  the  region  inhabited  by  the 
robbers,  the  Nile  when  it  retires  leaves  many 
ponds,  shallow  and  muddy,  on  which  the  robbers 
sail,  in  light  boats  containing  one  person:  any 
other  kind  would  run  aground  at  once.  When 
water  fails,  these  are  taken  on  the  sailor's  back 
and  carried  to  a  deeper  channel.  Among  the 
swamps,  the  uninhabited  islands  are  covered 
with  papyrus  growing  close,  behind  which,  as 
behind  a  rampart,  the  pirates  hold  their  councils 
and  plan  their  ambushes.  In  the  inhabited 
islands  are  rude  huts,  like  a  city  walled  in  by  the 
marsh.)  The  robbers  had  retired  to  the  island  of 
Nicochis,  for  this  place,  though  connected  with 
the  land  by  a  causeway,  was  otherwise  wholly 
surrounded  by  the  lagoons,  xiii.  The  robbers 
resorted  to  stratagem.  They  sent  out  their  old 
men  bearing  palm-branches,  ostensibly  as  a 
badge  of  supplication,  but  really  to  conceal  a 
column  of  spearmen  behind  them.  If  Charmides 
accepted  their  offer,  there  would  be  no  fighting; 
if  not,  they  were  to  lure  him  out  on  the  causeway, 
and  there  the  spearmen  were  to  attack.  So  it 
turned  out:  Charmides  refusing  ransom,  the  old 
men  begged  that  they  might  be  put  to  death  in 
their  own  homes,  and  that  their  city  might  be 
their  tomb.  Accordingly  Charmides  advanced 
along  the  causeway,  xiv.  Now  the  robbers  had 
also  stationed  lookouts  at  the  irrigation  canals, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  69 

who,  if  they  saw  Charmides'  force  advance,  were 
to  cut  the  bank  and  let  out  the  Nile  upon  him. 
At  one  moment,  then,  the  old  men  fell  back,  the 
unmasked  spearmen  charged,  and  the  waters 
rolled  over  the  causeway.  The  troopers,  com- 
pletely surprised,  were  thrown  into  ruinous  con- 
fusion, and  cut  down,  drowned,  or  routed. 
(Details.)  Charmides  himself  was  killed  at 
the  first  attack.  Here  was  a  land-battle  on 
water,  and  a  wreck  on  land.  The  pirates  were 
unduly  elated  at  their  success,  which  they  at- 
tributed not  to  fraud  but  to  valor;  for  these 
Egyptians  know  only  extremes — of  abject  fear 
and  overweening  isolence. 

xv.  After  ten  days  of  madness,  Leucippe  one 
night  exclaimed  in  her  sleep :  "  Gorgias,  'tis  thou 
hast  made  me  mad."  I  reported  these  words  to 
Menelaus,  wondering  whether  there  were  a 
Gorgias  in  the  place.  As  we  went  out,  a  young 
man  accosted  me,  saying,  "I  am  come  to  save 
you  and  your  wife."  "Are  you  Gorgias?" 
"  No,  I  am  Chaereas.  Gorgias  was  an  Egyptian 
soldier,  killed  in  the  battle  with  the  robbers. 
Having  fallen  in  love  with  Leucippe,  he  induced 
your  servant  to  administer  to  her  a  philter,  which 
proved  too  strong  and  produced  madness.  From 
Gorgias's  servant,  whom  Fortune  seems  to  have 
saved  for  your  special  behoof,  I  learned  these 
facts.  He  knows  the  antidote  as  well,  and  will 
cure  Leucippe  for  four  pieces  of  gold."  "  Bring 
me  the  man,"  said  I.  Then  I  mauled  my  Egyp- 
tian till  he  confessed,  and  put  him  in  prison, 
xvi.  Chaereas  returned  with  Gorgias's  servant, 


70  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

who,  to  allay  my  fears,  compounded  his  drug  in 
my  presence,  and  himself  drank  off  half  the  mix- 
ture. "  Now,"  he  said,  "  if  you  give  the  re- 
mainder to  Leucippe,  she  will  sleep  well  to-night, 
and  awake  cured."  Then  he  went  away  to  sleep 
off  the  effects  of  what  he  had  taken,  xvii.  With 
a  prayer,  I  administered  the  potion  to  Leucippe, 
who  fell  asleep;  and  I  addressed  her  thus: 
"  Shalt  thou  indeed  recover  ?  Speak  to  me  again 
prophetically  in  thy  sleep ;  for  thy  inspired  utter- 
ance concerning  Gorgias  was  true.  So  that  thy 
sleep,  wherein  thou  dreamest  wisdom,  is  happier 
than  thy  frenzied  waking  hours."  At  dawn  she 
awoke,  calling  "  Clitophon ! "  I  sprang  to  her 
side,  and  found  her  fully  recovered,  without  the 
least  remembrance  of  her  malady.  I  unbound 
her,  told  her  what  had  happened,  and  reassured 
her  in  her  confusion  thereat.  Gladly  then  I 
paid  Gorgias's  servant.  Our  money  was  safe,  as 
Satyrus,  who  had  it,  had  not  been  despoiled  by 
the  robbers,  any  more  than  had  Menelaus.  xviii. 
Meanwhile,  new  troops  had  extirpated  the  rob- 
bers and  razed  their  city ;  and  the  Nile  now  being 
safe  we  embarked  once  more  for  Alexandria, 
taking  our  new  friend  Chaereas  along.  (A 
fisherman  from  Pharos,  he  had  served  on  the 
fleet  against  the  robbers,  and  was  now  dis- 
charged.) The  river,  which  because  of  their 
depredations  had  been  deserted,  was  again 
crowded ;  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  was  to  hear  the 
songs  of  the  sailors  and  the  mirth  of  the  pas- 
sengers, and  to  see  so  many  craft  passing  up  and 
down:  the  river  itself  was  celebrating,  as  it  were. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  7 1 

(Description  of  the  Nile;  the  taste  of  the  water; 
the  Egyptian  mode  of  drinking  it ;  the  crocodile  a 
strange  beast.) 

Book  V 

i.  In  three  days  we  arrived  at  Alexandria. 
(I  admired  the  long  colonnades  from  the  Gate 
of  the  Sun  to  the  Gate  of  the  Moon;  and  the 
great  open  place  half-way  between,  with  its 
many  streets  and  its  moving  crowds — evBr]/jio<; 
aTroSq/Lua.  The  quarter  called  after  Alexander 
is  a  second  city,  with  more  streets  and  more 
colonnades.  The  size  and  the  population  vied 
with  each  other :  How  could  any  population  fill  so 
vast  a  city?  How  could  any  city  hold  so  vast  a 
population?  ii.  It  happened  to  be  the  feast  of 
Serapis,  the  Zeus  of  the  Egyptians ;  and  after 
sunset  the  illumination  brought  on  another  day, 
the  beauty  of  the  city  now  rivalling  that  of  the 
heavens.  We  saw  also  Zeus  Milichius  and  the 
temple  of  Zeus  Uranius,  and  prayed  him  to  end 
our  troubles.  But  Fortune  still  reserved  other 
trials  for  us.)  iii.  Chaereas  had  for  some  time 
loved  Leucippe ;  and  his  motive  for  telling  me 
about  Gorgias's  philtre  was  only  that  he  might 
preserve  her  for  himself,  and  become  intimate 
with  us.  He  now  plotted  to  get  possession  of 
her.  As  a  seafaring  man  he  easily  gathered  a 
band  of  pirates,  to  whom  he  gave  his  instructions ; 
and  then  he  invited  us  to  celebrate  his  birthday 
at  Pharos.  When  we  left  the  house,  a  hawk  pur- 
suing a  swallow  brushed  Leucippe's  head  with 
his  wing.  Startled  by  this  evil  omen,  I  prayed 
to  Zeus  for  a  clearer  sign :  when,  turning  round, 


73  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

I  found  myself  before  a  picture-shop  in  which 
hung  a  painting  of  like  significance.  It  repre- 
sented Philomela  revealing  her  wrongs  to  Procne 
by  means  of  the  tapestry.  A  slave  held  up  the 
cloth,  to  the  figures  on  which  Philomela  pointed : 
herself  struggling  dishevelled  in  the  arms  of 
Tereus,  her  right  hand  gouging  out  his  eyes,  her 
left  drawing  her  dress  over  her  half-naked  breast. 
Procne  gave  sign  of  her  understanding  and  her 
rage.  Elsewhere  appeared  the  two  sisters  show- 
ing to  Tereus  the  remnants  of  his  supper — the 
head  and  hands  of  his  child.  They  laugh  and 
are  afraid — both  at  once ;  Tereus  leaps  up  from 
his  couch,  drawing  his  sword  against  them ;  his 
leg  strikes  and  overturns  the  table,  which  is  on 
the  very  point  of  falling,  iv.  Upon  Menelaus's 
advice  we  put  off  the  excursion  to  Pharos  be- 
cause of  these  portents,  and  notified  Chaereas, 
who,  much  vexed,  said  he  should  come  again 
the  next  day.  (v.  At  Leucippe's  request,  I  re- 
lated the  story  of  Philomela,  Procne,  and 
Tereus.) 

vi.  We  had  avoided  the  trap  for  only  a  day. 
Next  morning  Chaereas  appeared,  and  as  we 
were  ashamed  to  refuse  him  again,  we  sailed  to 
Pharos.  Menelaus  remained  at  home,  saying  he 
did  not  feel  well.  Chaereas  showed  us  the  light- 
house with  its  marvellous  foundation  of  rock,  a 
cloud-capped  mountain  in  the  midst  of  the  sea; 
and  the  tower  on  whose  summit  the  light  is  dis- 
played— a  second  pilot  for  ships.  Then  he  took 
us  to  a  house  on  the  shore,  at  the  very  end  of  the 
island,  vii.  At  evening  he  made  a  pretext  to 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  73 

leave  us.  Soon  we  heard  a  great  shouting  at  the 
door,  and  a  number  of  burly  fellows  burst  into 
the  room  and  dragged  Leucippe  away.  Armed 
though  they  were,  I  rushed  into  the  midst  of 
them;  but  fell  wounded  in  the  thigh.  They  put 
Leucippe  into  a  boat,  and  fled.  By  this  time,  the 
noise  had  brought  thither  the  commandant  of  the 
island,  whom  I  had  known  in  the  army,  and 
whom  I  now  besought  to  pursue  the  pirates.  He 
had  me  carried  aboard  one  of  the  numerous  ships 
waiting  in  the  port,  and  at  once  gave  chase. 
When  the  pirates  saw  us  drawing  near,  they  ex- 
hibited the  maiden  on  deck  with  her  hands  tied 
behind  her  back,  and  one  of  them,  crying  out 
"  Here,  take  your  prize ! "  cut  off  her  head  and 
threw  the  trunk  overboard.  As  my  companions 
restrained  me  from  throwing  myself  after  it,  I 
begged  them  to  recover  the  body  for  me,  which 
two  sailors  accordingly  did.  The  consequent 
delay  enabled  the  pirates  to  gain  distance,  and  by 
the  time  we  were  near  them  again,  they  had 
found  allies  in  an  approaching  shipload  of  purple- 
fishers,  pirates  like  themselves.  Seeing  the  odds 
against  him,  our  commandant  retired;  and  I  broke 
forth :  "  Now  indeed,  Leucippe,  hast  thou  died  a 
double  death,  divided  as  thou  art  between  sea 
and  land.  And  the  division  is  unfair;  for  though 
I  seem  to  possess  the  greater  portion  of  thee,  yet 
the  sea,  in  possessing  its  little — thy  head — pos- 
sesses thee  all.  But  since  Fortune  denies  me  thy 
head,  I  will  kiss  thy  neck." 

viii.     After  interring  the  body,  I  returned  to 
Alexandria,  unwillingly  had  my  wound  dressed, 


74  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

and,  urged  by  Menelaus,  decided  to  endure  life. 
But  at  the  end  of  six  months  my  grief  had  some- 
what abated.  For  time  medicines  grief,  and  the 
sun  is  a  cheerful  thing,  and  even  violent  sorrow 
yields  to  the  distractions  of  life  day  by  day.  I 
was  walking  the  public  square,  when  who  should 
come  up  behind  me  but  Clinias!  After  my  sur- 
prise and  my  joy  at  seeing  him  were  somewhat 
calmed,  he  told  me  his  story :  ix.  "  The  yard  to 
which  I  clung  was  caught  up  by  a  tremendous 
wave  and  dashed  against  a  sunken  rock.  I  was 
hurled  off  as  from  a  sling.  I  swam  the  rest  of 
the  day,  growing  more  and  more  exhausted,  till, 
abandoning  myself  to  Fortune,  I  at  last  perceived 
a  ship  steering  my  way.  I  was  rescued  and 
treated  well.  I  knew  some  of  the  people  aboard, 
who  were  bound  for  Sidon.  x.  There,  after  two 
days,  we  arrived,  and  I  begged  my  acquaintances 
not  to  mention  that  they  had  saved  me  from 
shipwreck,  as  I  did  not  wish  it  known  in  Tyre  that 
I  had  gone  off  with  you.  I  had  been  away  only 
five  days ;  and  as  I  had  told  my  servants  to  say 
that  I  had  gone  to  the  country  for  ten  days, 
there  was  no  need  of  explanations  upon  my 
return.  Your  father  did  not  even  return  from 
his  journey  (II.  xxx)  till  two  days  after  my 
arrival.  Then  he  found  a  letter  from  Leucippe's 
father,  which  had  come  only  a  day  after  we  had 
gone,  offering  you  her  hand!  At  this,  and  at 
your  flight,  he  was  greatly  chagrined,  both  be- 
cau^,e  you  had  lost  the  prize  and  because  For- 
tune had  made  you  miss  it  by  so  little :  for  if  the 
letter  had  come  earlier,  you  would  not  have  run 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  75 

away.  But  he  thought  it  better  to  write  nothing 
to  Sostratus  about  your  flight,  and  to  persuade 
Panthea  also  to  keep  the  secret;  for  he  felt  sure 
you  would  be  found,  and  would  return  as  soon  as 
you  heard  the  news.  He  made  every  effort  to 
find  you,  and  only  a  few  days  ago  Diophantus  of 
Tyre  returning  from  Egypt  reported  that  he  had 
seen  you  there.  I  at  once  took  ship  hither.  You 
had  better  decide  upon  some  plan ;  your  father  is 
sure  to  be  here  soon." 

xi.  Hereupon  I  railed  at  Fortune :  "  Now's  the 
time  indeed  for  Sostratus  to  grant  me  Leucippe ! 
Doubtless  he  computed  it  so  exactly  in  order  not 
to  interfere  with  our  flight!  My  happiness 
comes  just  a  day  too  late.  After  death,  a  bridal ; 
after  the  dirge,  the  nuptial  hymn.  And  what 
bride  does  Fortune  give  me?  One  of  whom  she 
grants  me  not  even  the  corpse  entire."  I  decided 
neither  to  return,  nor  to  await  my  father.  How 
could  I  face  him,  after  running  away  so  shame- 
fully, and  after  corrupting  the  charge  he  had  re- 
ceived in  trust  from  his  brother?  Just  as  I 
had  resolved,  then,  to  run  away  once  more,  Mene- 
laus  and  Satyrus  came  up.  "  Here's  exactly  the 
chance :  "  said  Satyrus,  "  Melitta,  a  beautiful  rich 
young  widow  of  Ephesus,  who  has  lost  her  hus- 
band at  sea,  is  madly  in  love  with  Clitophon ;  but 
he'll  none  of  her.  I  suppose  he  thinks  Leucippe 
will  come  to  life  again.  Melitta  wants  him — 
I'll  not  say  for  a  husband,  but  for  a  master." 
xii.  "  Beauty,  and  riches,  and  love,"  said  Mene- 
laus,  "  are  not  to  be  despised.  I  advise  you  to 
accept  her  offer."  I  reluctantly  agreed,  stipu- 


76  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

lating  however  that  the  consummation  should  not 
take  place  till  our  arrival  at  Ephesus,  as  I  had 
sworn  to  be  continent  in  the  city  where  I  had  lost 
Leucippe.  Satyrus  took  the  news  to  Melitta, 
who  almost  fainted  with  joy.  At  her  invitation 
I  went  to  dine  with  her  that  evening,  xiii.  She 
covered  me  with  kisses,  which  I  received  not 
without  pleasure  ;  for  she  was  white  as  milk,  with 
golden  hair  and  rosy  cheeks,  and  a  glance  that 
sparkled  with  love.  The  feast  was  abundant,  but 
she  ate  nothing,  feeding  her  eyes  upon  me. 
(Love  fills  the  soul,  leaving  no  room  even  for 
food.  The  images  of  the  beloved,  the  visual 
effluvia  or  simulacra  from  him,  enter  the  heart 
through  the  eyes,  and  leave  their  imprint  upon 
the  mirror  of  the  soul.)  xiv.  When  night 
came,  I  declined  her  invitation  to  remain,  but 
agreed  to  meet  her  next  day  at  the  temple  of 
Isis.  There,  in  the  presence  of  Clinias  and 
Menelaus,  we  plighted  our  troth  before  the 
divinity.  Melitta  took  me  for  her  husband  and 
put  me  in  possession  of  all  her  property;  I  swore 
to  love  her  sincerely:  both  the  promises  to  take 
effect  upon  our  arrival  at  Ephesus.  At  our 
nuptial  feast,  when  the  guests  wished  us  joy, 
Melitta  spoke  an  earnest  word  in  jest:  "I  have 
heard,"  she  said  to  me  sotto  voce,  "of  a  cenotaph, 
but  never  of  a  ceno^am !  " 

xv.  Next  day  we  parted  from  Menelaus,  but 
Clinias  embarked  with  us,  intending  to  return  to 
Tyre  after  seeing  me  well  settled  at  Ephesus. 
At  night,  Melitta  again  asked  me  to  consummate 
our  marriage :  we  had  left,  she  urged,  the  terri- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  77 

tory  sacred  to  Leucippe.  xvi.  "  No,"  said  I, 
"  she  died  upon  the  ocean,  and  we  are  actually 
sailing  over  her  tomb !  Perchance  her  spirit  still 
wanders  about  us.  First  we  must  land  in  another 
country.  Would  you  wed  upon  the  unstable  sea? 
and  have  a  bridal  bed  without  a  firm  founda- 
tion ? "  "  You  argue  sophistically,"  she  an- 
swered, "  to  lovers  every  place  is  a  bridal  cham- 
ber— and  the  sea  especially,  for  Aphrodite  is 
daughter  of  the  sea.  And  behold  about  you  the 
symbols  of  happy  marriage:  the  sail-yard  cross- 
ing the  mast  like  a  yoke ;  the  intertwining  ropes ; 
the  rudder  an  emblem  of  the  guidance  of  For- 
tune ;  the  swelling  pregnant  sail.  The  wind  sings 
Hymen  ;  the  choir  of  Nereids,  with  Poseidon  him- 
self, who  wedded  Amphitrite  on  the  sea,  shall 
make  our  bridal  pomp !  "  "  Nay,"  said  I,  "  the 
sea  itself  has  its  laws,  and  among  them  this — 
that  ships  be  kept  pure  of  the  pleasures  of 
Aphrodite — either  because  ships  are  sacred,  or 
because  men  should  not  wanton  in  the  presence 
of  peril."  Thus  I  soothed  and  persuaded  her, 
and  the  rest  of  the  night  we  slept. 

xvii.  After  a  voyage  of  five  days  we  landed 
at  Ephesus.  Melitta  ordered  dinner  at  her  mag- 
nificent house  in  town,  and  meanwhile  we  drove 
out  to  her  country-place  and  walked  in  the  garden. 
Suddenly  a  woman,  miserably  clad  and  heavily 
fettered,  her  head  shaven,  her  hand  holding  a 
mattock,  fell  at  our  knees.  "Have  pity,"  she 
cried,  "  upon  one  who  was  free  by  birth,  but  is 
now  by  Fortune  a  slave."  Melitta  bade  her  rise 
and  tell  her  story :  She  was  a  Thessalian,  Lacaena 


78  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

by  name;  had  been  sold  by  pirates  to  Sosthenes, 
Melitta's  bailiff,  for  two  thousand  drachmas ;  these 
she  now  hoped  to  procure  to  purchase  her  free- 
dom. Meanwhile  she  begged  to  be  kept  safe  from 
Sosthenes,  who  because  she  would  not  yield  to 
him  had  loaded  her  with  chains  and  with  the 
stripes  she  showed  us  on  her  back.  I  was  deeply 
moved,  for  she  seemed  to  have  something  of 
Leucippe  about  her.  Melitta  delivered  her  from 
her  chains,  promised  to  send  her  home  free  of 
ransom,  and  sent  for  Sosthenes  and  deprived  him 
of  his  office.  Then,  having  committed  Lacaena 
to  the  maids  to  be  washed,  properly  clad,  and 
taken  to  the  city,  Melitta  returned  with  me. 

xviii.  While  we  sat  at  dinner,  Satyrus  mo- 
tioned to  me  to  go  out.  I  made  an  excuse  and 
did  so ;  whereupon  he  handed  me  a  letter  which 
I  at  once  saw  was  in  Leucippe's  writing! 
"  Master,"  it  read  "  (so  I  must  call  thee  since 
thou  art  my  mistress's  husband),  for  thee  I  have 
left  my  mother,  and  become  a  wanderer;  suf- 
fered captivity  among  robbers,  and  become  an 
expiatory  offering;  suffered  again  the  pains  of 
death;  been  sold,  fettered,  and  scourged;  been 
made  to  bear  a  mattock  and  hoe  the  ground — and 
all  this  that  I  might  become  to  another  man  what 
thou  art  to  another  woman.  Heaven  forbid !  I 
have  endured  to  the  end;  but  thou,  unharmed, 
unscourged,  hast  yielded.  See  to  it  then  that  thy 
wife  keep  her  word  to  me:  do  thou  become 
security  for  my  ransom,  and  say  that  I  will  send 
it;  but  even  shouldst  thou  be  obliged  to  pay  it, 
consider  it  then  as  the  price  of  what  I  have  borne 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  79 

for  thy  sake.  Adieu,  be  happy.  I  who  write  this 
am  still  a  maid."  xix.  This  I  read  with  con- 
flicting emotions :  I  burned,  I  paled,  I  wondered, 
I  doubted,  I  rejoiced,  I  grieved.  Satyrus  told  me 
that  the  woman  I  had  seen  in  the  country  was 
indeed  Leucippe,  rendered  unrecognizable  by  the 
cutting  of  her  hair.  xx.  "  She  will  tell  you," 
said  he,  "  whose  corpse  it  was  that  you  buried, 
and  how  she  herself  was  saved.  But  now 
answer  her  letter  and  soothe  her  irritation.  I 
have  already  told  her  it  was  against  your  will 
that  you  married  Melitta."  "  Told  her  I  married 
Melitta!  You've  spoiled  all."  "Nonsense!  the 
whole  town  knows  you're  married  to  her."  "I 
swear  that  I  am  not  her  husband."  "  Tush,  man, 
you  sleep  with  her ! "  "I  know  it's  incredible, 
but  I  am  innocent  of  her."  I  then  composed  my 
answer  to  Leucippe :  "  I  am  unhappy  in  my  happi- 
ness, that,  having  thee  near,  I  see  thee  only  as  afar. 
Wait  till  the  truth  is  known,  and  you  will  find 
that  I  too  have  remained  a  clean  maid,  if  there  be 
maidenhood  in  men.  Meanwhile,  judge  me  not 
too  hardly."  xxi.  Giving  Satyrus  the  letter,  I 
returned  to  dinner,  but  could  eat  nothing,  and  in- 
deed judged  it  best  to  feign  positive  illness ;  for  I 
knew  that  Melitta  would  urge  me  to  consummate 
our  marriage  that  night,  but  felt,  now  I  had  re- 
covered Leucippe,  that  I  could  not  even  look  at 
another  woman.  When  I  left  the  table,  Melitta 
followed  me,  pleading  most  piteously,  and  justly 
too,  that  as  we  had  now  arrived,  the  fulfilment  of 
my  promise  was  due.  I  swore  that  I  was  ill ; 
and  with  fresh  promises  at  last  contrived  to 
pacify  her. 


80  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

xxii.  Next  day,  after  ascertaining  that  Leu- 
cippe  had  been  well  cared  for,  Melitta  sent  for 
her.  "  I  hear,"  she  said,  "  that  you  Thessalians 
are  adepts  in  love-magic.  Here,  now,  is  your 
chance  to  return  some  of  my  kindness  to  you. 
That  young  man  you  saw  with  me " — "  Your 
husband?"  asked  Leucippe,  maliciously.  "Hus- 
band !  "  exclaimed  Melitta.  "  Husband  indeed ! 
why,  he's  continually  calling  upon  some  dead 
woman — Leucippe  I  think  her  name  is — whom 
he  prefers  to  me.  Now  help  me  win  this  dis- 
dainful youth:  give  me  a  philtre."  Leucippe 
heard  with  joy  this  account  of  my  fidelity;  and 
believing  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  deny  her  magic 
skill,  promised  to  gather  the  necessary  herbs. 
Melitta  was  calmed  by  hope. 

xxiii.  That  night  we  had  just  sat  down  to 
dinner  when  there  arose  a  great  noise  and  tumult, 
and  one  of  the  servants  rushed  in  breathless,  ex- 
claiming, "  Thersander's  alive ;  and  here  he  is !  " 
(Thersander  was  Melitta's  husband,  who,  accord- 
ing to  certain  of  his  servants  that  had  been  saved 
from  the  wreck,  was  drowned.)  In  a  moment 
he  was  in  the  room.  He  had  heard  about  me  of 
course,  and  had  hurried  to  surprise  me.  Rudely 
repulsing  his  wife,  who  ran  to  embrace  him,  he 
turned  to  me,  crying  "There's  the  paramour!", 
seized  me  by  the  hair,  dashed  me  to  the  floor,  and 
beat  me  unmercifully.  I  could  have  defended 
myself,  but  as  I  suspected  who  he  was,  I  feared 
to  do  so.  At  length,  when  he  was  weary  of  beat- 
ing and  I  of  philosophizing  ( !),  I  asked:  "Who 
are  you?  and  why  do  you  maltreat  me?"  My 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  Si 

words  seemed  still  further  to  enrage  him.  He 
began  buffeting  me  again,  and  calling  for  chains 
and  handcuffs,  had  me  fettered  and  locked  up. 
xxiv.  In  the  struggle  I  let  fall  Leucippe's  letter, 
and  Melitta  picked  it  up.  At  first  she  thought  it 
was  one  of  her  own  letters  to  me ;  then  she  saw 
the  name  Leucippe,  but  still  did  not  realize  the 
truth,  as  she  had  so  often  heard  that  Leucippe 
was  dead ;  finally  understanding  the  actual  state 
of  affairs,  she  was  torn  by  shame,  anger,  jealousy, 
and  love ; — shame  towards  her  husband,  anger 
towards  the  letter,  love  which  mollified  her  anger, 
and  jealousy  which  intensified  her  love.  Love 
remained  the  victor,  xxv.  When  evening  came, 
and  Thersander  was  gone  out  to  see  a  friend, 
Melitta  won  over  my  guard,  and  placing  two  of 
her  own  servants  at  the  door,  entered  my  prison. 
She  threw  herself  down  beside  me  on  the  floor, 
and  began :  "  Miserable  that  I  am,  ever  to  have 
beheld  you !  Hated,  I  love  him  who  hates  me ; 
tortured,  I  pity  my  torturer.  Oh  detestable  pair 
— you  and  she — :  the  one  laughs  me  to  scorn  ;  the 
other,  forsooth,  has  gone  to  make  me  a  philtre ! " 
At  this  she  threw  Leucippe's  letter  on  the  floor, 
and  I  shuddered  and  cast  down  my  eyes. 
"Alas!"  she  went  on,  "'tis  for  you  I  have  lost 
my  husband  ;  and  yet  you  I  can  never  possess,  nor 
henceforward  even  see.  He  accuses  me  of 
adultery — an  adultery  fruitless  and  joyless,  where- 
of I  have  gathered  only  the  disgrace.  Other 
wives  at  least  receive  enjoyment  as  the  price  of 
their  infamy ;  I  get  infamy  alone.  Inhuman 
man,  can  nothing  move  you?  Oh,  the  shame  of 


82  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

it — you  have  held  me  in  your  arms,  me,  young, 
beautiful,  and  sick  with  love  for  you — and  you 
have  left  me  as  another  woman  might  leave  me ! 
May  the  god  of  love  answer  your  prayers  as  you 
have  answered  mine !  "  and  she  wept.  xxvi.  I 
still  remained  silent,  with  downcast  eyes ;  and  she 
resumed:  "What  I  have  said  was  said  by  my 
anger  and  my  grief;  but  oh,  my  love  speaks 
now !  Have  pity  on  me.  I  yield  up  the  prospect 
of  a  married  life  with  you ;  give  me  but  one  em- 
brace. Quench  my  fire.  If  I  transgress 
modesty,  I  do  not  blush  to  unveil  love's  mysteries 
to  a  lover — himself  an  initiate.  Now  keep  your 
promise :  remember  Isis  and  your  oaths.  Alas — 
against  me  even  the  dead  come  to  life.  O  sea, 
thou  didst  bear  me  safe,  but  only  to  destroy  me 
in  resuscitating  Thersander  and  Leucippe.  Ah, 
Clitophon,  to  think  that  you  were  struck  in  my 
very  presence,  and  I  could  do  naught  to  save  you ! 
But  come,  be  mine  now,  for  the  first  and  last 
time.  'Tis  my  love  for  you  that  has  restored 
Leucippe  to  you.  Reject  not  the  treasure  of  my 
love,  the  gift  of  Fortune.  Consider, — Eros  him- 
self speaks  to  you  through  my  lips.  Soon  shall 
you  be  delivered  from  these  chains,  and  I  will 
find  a  place  for  you  with  my  foster-brother,  let 
Thersander  do  what  we  will.  Leucippe  is  away 
till  morning,  gathering  herbs ;  Thersander,  too,  is 
out:  let  us  take  our  opportunity."  xxvii.  Won 
over  at  last  by  this  pleading — for  Love  is  a 
mighty  master  of  eloquence — I  yielded.  Melitta 
unbound  me,  and  I, — considering  that  I  should 
soon  part  from  her,  that  I  had  recovered  Leu- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  83 

cippe  (so  that  this  would  be  no  consummation  of 
a  marriage,  but  only  the  relief  of  a  love-sick 
soul),  and  that  Eros  himself  would  be  angry  if 
I  resisted  further, — returned  her  embraces  to  the 
full. 

Book  VI 

i-ii.  Melitta  now  arranged  my  escape.  I  was 
to  be  conducted  to  Clinias,  whither  Leucippe  also 
would  be  sent.  I  gave  Melitta  my  clothes,  and 
she  gave  me  hers,  which  she  said  became  me  very 
well  ("I  looked  like  Achilles  in  the  picture")  — 
and  she  begged  me  to  keep  them  for  remem- 
brance, as  she  should  keep  mine.  With  a  female 
slave  I  passed  the  door-keeper,  and  found  at  the 
outer  door  of  the  house  the  guide  provided  for 
me.  Upon  the  slave-girl's  return,  Melitta  called 
the  door-keeper,  who  was  astonished  to  behold 
her  whom  he  thought  he  had  just  let  out.  She 
explained  that  she  had  arranged  the  stratagem  to 
give  him  plausible  ground  for  saying  that  he  had 
not  connived  at  my  escape;  further,  she  gave 
him  money  and  sent  him  away  till  matters  should 
be  arranged  with  Thersander. 

iii.  As  usual,  Fortune  began  a  new  play  with 
me.  Whom  should  she  send  to  meet  me  but 
Thersander,  returning  from  his  friend's — a  worse 
danger  indeed  than  the  crowds  of  drunken  revel- 
lers I  had  feared — celebrants  of  the  festival  of 
Artemis.  Sosthenes  the  deposed  bailiff  had  upon 
his  master's  return  not  only  resumed  his  office, 
but  plotted  revenge  upon  Melitta.  He  had  told 
Thersander  of  her  relations  with  me  ( — in  fact 
he  was  the  informer — )  ;  then,  to  alienate  Ther- 


§4  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

sander  wholly  from  Melitta,  he  offered  him  Leu- 
cippe,  whom,  he  said,  he  had  reserved  for  him. 
"He  had  heard  that  Thersander  was  alive,  had 
believed  it  because  he  wished  it  so,  but  had  said 
nothing  in  order  to  make  sure  of  entrapping 
Melitta  and  her  paramour.  As  for  the  girl, 
Melitta  meant  to  liberate  her,  but  Fortune  had 
kept  her  for  Thersander:  she  was  then  in  the 
country,  and  could  be  locked  up  against  his  com- 
ing." iv.  Thersander  told  him  to  lose  no  time ; 
and  Sosthenes,  going  at  once  to  the  country  and 
finding  Leucippe  at  the  hut  where  she  was  to  pass 
the  night,  covered  her  mouth  with  his  hand,  and 
carried  her  off  to  a  lonely  house.  To  reassure 
her,  he  told  her  his  master  was  to  be  her  lover, 
and  asked  that  in  her  luck  she  should  not  forget 
him!  She  was  silent.  Hurrying  back,  Sos- 
thenes found  Thersander  just  returning  home, 
but  so  inflamed  him  by  a  description  of  Leucippe 
that  he  decided  to  go  to  her  at  once.  v.  They 
were  on  their  way  when  they  met  me.  Disguised 
though  I  was,  Sosthenes  recognized  me ;  my 
guide,  who  saw  them  first,  ran  off  without  warn- 
ing; Thersander  seized  and  began  to  abuse  me; 
a  crowd  gathered ;  and  I  was  taken  to  prison  and 
charged  with  adultery.  Nothing  of  all  this  gave 
me  much  concern,  for  my  marriage  with  Melitta 
had  been  public ;  but  I  augured  evil  for  Leucippe. 
vi.  Thersander  found  her  lying  on  the  ground 
with  dejected  countenance,  upon  which  grief  and 
fear  were  plainly  depicted.  (Indeed,  the  mind 
is  not  invisible  at  all,  but  is  mirrored  in  the  coun- 
tenance.) When  she  heard  the  door  open,  she 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  85 

raised  her  eyes  a  moment,  and  Thersander  saw 
them  by  a  little  light  that  burned  in  the  cottage. 
Enamored  instantly,  he  cried:  "Why  pour  out 
the  beauty  of  your  eyes  upon  the  ground? 
Rather  pour  it  into  mine."  vii.  Leucippe  burst 
into  tears,  and  looked  all  the  lovelier.  (Tears 
intensify  the  expression  of  the  eye :  if  ugly,  they 
render  it  uglier ;  if  beautiful,  then  the  dark  iris  in 
the  midst  of  the  white  ring  becomes  like  the  well- 
ing breast  of  a  fountain  overflowing;  under  the 
moisture,  the  white  becomes  richer  and  the  dark 
becomes  empurpled,  like  narcissus  and  violet; 
and  the  tears  smile.)  Such  were  Leucippe's 
tears,  which  might  well  have  turned  into  a  new 
kind  of  amber.  Thersander  also  wept.  (A 
woman's  tears  naturally  draw  sympathetic  tears 
from  a  man — the  more,  the  more  abundant:  add 
that  she  is  beautiful  and  he  her  lover,  and  her 
weeping  becomes  irresistible.  Her  beauty  moves 
from  her  eyes  to  his,  drawing  with  it  a  fount  of 
tears :  the  beauty  he  eagerly  drinks  into  his  soul ; 
but  the  tears  he  is  careful  to  keep  in  his  eyes. 
He  will  not  dry  them,  or  even  move  his  eyelids, 
lest  the  tears  vanish  ere  she  see  them;  for  they 
bear  witness  to  his  love.)  His  tears,  then,  were 
due  partly  to  genuine  human  feeling ;  partly  to  his 
wish  to  make  a  good  show.  At  any  rate,  he  took 
his  departure  for  the  time,  promising  soon  to 
dry  her  tears. 

viii.  Meanwhile  Melitta  having  sent  for  Leu- 
cippe learned  that  she  could  not  be  found;  and, 
further,  that  I  had  been  committed  to  prison. 
Though  she  knew  nothing  certainly,  she  sus- 


86  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

pected  Sosthenes;  and  as  she  was  determined  to 
find  out  what  she  could  from  Thersander,  she 
thought  out  a  plan  wherein  truth  and  subtlety 
were  mingled,  ix.  Accordingly,  when  Ther- 
sander came  in,  bawling  out  that  as  she  had  set 
her  paramour  free,  she  had  better  go  and  see 
him  again  in  prison,  she  answered  coolly  that 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  a  paramour  in  the 
case:  the  young  man  was  neither  her  husband 
nor  her  lover.  He  was  of  an  excellent  Tyrian 
family;  hearing  of  his  shipwreck  she  had  taken 
him  in  out  of  pure  pity,  thinking  of  Thersander's 
shipwreck  and  of  the  chance  that  some  kind 
woman  might  take  him  in.  Indeed  when  she  at 
last  believed  Thersander  dead,  she  had  helped 
many  who  had  been  cast  away,  and  had  buried 
many  bodies  recovered  from  the  sea — all  for  his 
sake!  Clitophon  was  merely  the  last  of  a  large 
number  of  eleemosynaries.  "  As  for  my  relations 
with  him,"  she  concluded,  "he  was  deploring  a 
wife  whom  he  thought  dead, — when  news  came 
that  she  had  been  bought  by  Sosthenes ;  and  such 
was  the  fact.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  Clito- 
phon came  with  me  to  Ephesus.  You  may,  if 
you  like,  verify  my  statements  by  means  of  Sos- 
thenes and  the  woman ;  and  from  the  truth  of 
these  infer  the  truth  of  all."  x.  In  all  this,  she 
pretended  not  to  know  of  Leucippe's  disappear- 
ance. That  knowledge  she  was  treasuring  up  in 
case  Thersander  should  investigate :  then  the  ser- 
vants who  had  gone  out  with  Leucippe  would 
bear  witness  that  Melitta  had  done  all  she  could 
to  find  and  keep  safe  the  wife  of  Clitophon,  but 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  87 

that  Leucippe  had  disappeared.  Having  acted 
her  part  convincingly  so  far,  she  added :  "  Rumor, 
to  be  sure,  has  been  busy  about  my  relations  with 
Clitophon :  but  then,  rumor  had  it  that  you  were 
dead!  Who  can  trust  rumor ?  (Tirade :  Rumor 
and  Calumny — kindred  evils!  Rumor  is  the 
daughter  of  Calumny,  etc.,  etc.)  It  is  these 
two  that  have  been  my  foes, — these  two  that  have 
stopped  your  ears  against  me."  xi.  Then 
she  tried  to  kiss  his  hand.  He  was  almost 
persuaded : — all  seemed  so  plausible,  so  consistent 
with  what  Sosthenes  had  told  him  of  Leucippe. 
But  his  jealousy  was  not  wholly  allayed ;  and  his 
hatred  of  me  was  only  exacerbated  by  the  news 
that  Leucippe  was  my  wife.  He  said  he  should 
make  all  due  investigations,  and  then  went  to 
bed  alone. 

Sosthenes  went  a  little  way  with  his  master 
[ante  vii,  ad  fin.]  ;  then,  returning,  told  Leucippe 
that  all  was  going  well:  Thersander  was  madly 
in  love  with  her,  and  might  perhaps  even  marry 
her!  "If  so,"  he  concluded,  "you  have  me  to 
thank  !  "  xii.  "  May  the  gods  requite  you  with 
equal  happiness ! "  cried  Leucippe.  Sosthenes 
not  perceiving  her  irony  went  on  to  praise  Ther- 
sander— his  birth,  his  wealth,  his  youth  and  per- 
sonal attractions.  This  was  more  than  Leucippe 
could  endure.  "  Beast !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  cease 
defiling  my  ears  with  talk  of  your  Thersander. 
What's  he  to  me?  Let  him  be  handsome  for 
Melitta,  rich  for  his  country's  weal,  but  kind  and 
generous  to  those  in  need !  Be  he  nobler-born 
than  Codrus,  and  richer  than  Croesus,  I  care  not. 


88  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

/  will  praise  him  when  he  stops  insulting  other 
men's  wives!"  "You're  jesting,"  said  Sos- 
thenes.  "  Not  I,"  answered  Leucippe,  "  leave  me 
to  my  ill  hap,  evil  enough  without  your  talk.  I 
know  full  well  I  am  fallen  into  a  den  of  pirates." 
"  You're  crazy  !  "  exclaimed  Sosthenes.  "  Do  you 
call  wealth  and  marriage  and  dainty  living 
piracy  f  Why,  Fortune  gives  you  a  husband 
whom  the  gods  themselves  love."  And  he  gave 
her  an  embroidered  account  of  Thersander's 
escape,  making  it  a  greater  marvel  than  that  of 
Arion.  "  Look  to  it,"  he  concluded,  "  that  you  do 
not  exasperate  Thersander,  kind  as  he  is ;  for  his 
anger  once  provoked  will  be  proportional  to  his 
former  goodwill."  So  much  for  Leucippe. 

xiv.  Clinias  and  Satyrus,  informed  by  Melitta 
of  my  imprisonment,  came  to  see  me,  and  wished  to 
pass  the  night  with  me,  but  were  not  permitted  by 
the  jailer.  I  asked  them  to  come  again  in  the 
morning  and  bring  me  whatever  news  they  could 
get  of  Leucippe.  When  I  was  left  alone,  and 
thought  over  Melitta's  promises,  my  mind  was 
balanced  between  hope  and  fear :  the  hoping  part 
was  afraid,  and  the  fearing  part  hoped. 

xv.  Next  morning  Sosthenes  reported  to  his 
master;  but  instead  of  giving  a  true  account  of 
his  failure,  he  said  that  Leucippe  merely  feared 
she  should  be  abandoned  after  yielding.  "  She 
may  be  easy  on  that  score,"  said  Thersander, 
"my  love  for  her  is  deathless.  But  I  wonder 
whether  she  is  that  fellow's  wife."  At  this  point 
in  their  conversation  they  reached  the  cottage, 
and  heard  her  soliloquizing  within  :  xvi.  "  Alas, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  89 

Clitophon,  neither  of  us  knoweth  where  the  other 
lies  confined.  Were  you  not  also  insulted  by 
Thersander?  Often  have  I  desired  to  ascertain 
these  things  from  Sosthenes:  but  if  I  called  you 
husband,  I  feared  still  further  to  irritate  Ther- 
sander against  you ;  if  I  inquired  as  concerning 
a  stranger,  that  too  would  excite  suspicion.  O 
Clitophon,  faithful  husband  of  Leucippe,  you 
who  would  not  yield  to  another  woman  even 
when  she  lay  by  your  side, — though  I,  unloving, 
believed  you  had  yielded ! — what  now  shall  I  say 
to  Thersander?  Shall  I  throw  up  my  acted  part, 
and  reveal  myself — daughter  of  the  Byzantine 
general,  wife  of  Clitophon  the  first  citizen  of 
Tyre,  myself  no  Thessalian,  not  Lacaena,  but 
robbed  by  pirates  of  my  very  name?  He  would 
scarce  believe  me — but  if  he  did,  I  fear  for  you. 
My  freedom  of  speech  must  not  ruin  him  who  is 
dearest  to  me.  So  be  it,  then ;  I  resume  my  role, 
and  am  once  more  Lacaena."  xvii.  At  this, 
Thersander  exclaimed :  "  Ah,  that  adulterer  sup- 
plants me  everywhere.  Melitta  loves  him,  Leu- 
cippe loves  him :  the  rogue  is  a  wizard.  Would 
I  were  he ! "  Sosthenes  urged  his  master  on. 
"  To  be  sure,"  he  said,  "  Leucippe  loves  him  now, 
but  she's  never  seen  anybody  else.  Further- 
more, a  woman  loves  an  absent  lover  only  till  she 
finds  a  present  one.  Ply  her  briskly,  man ! " 
Thersander  took  courage,  for  his  desire  coincided 
with  his  belief  and  his  hope,  and  made  them 
stronger,  xviii.  After  waiting  a  short  time,  that 
Leucippe  might  not  suspect  he  had  overheard  her 
soliloquy,  Thersander  entered.  He  was  at  once 


90  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

inflamed  by  Leucippe,  but  dissembling  his  excite- 
ment, sat  down  beside  her  and  talked  incoher- 
ently of  one  thing  and  another.  (So  it  is  with  a 
lover  when  he  talks  to  his  beloved.  His  mind  is 
all  absorbed  by  her,  and  his  tongue  babbles  on 
unguided  by  reason.)  While  he  talked  he  tried 
to  embrace  her ;  she  resisted ;  and  there  ensued 
a  struggle:  Thersander  at  length  desisting,  Leu- 
cippe said:  "You  are  acting  neither  like  a  free 
man  nor  like  a  man  well-born.  You  imitate 
Sosthenes:  like  slave,  like  master.  Spare  your 
pains:  you  will  not  succeed  unless  you  turn  into 
Clitophon."  xix.  Thersander  was  torn  between 
desire  and  rage.  (Anger  and  desire:  their 
enmity;  their  alliance.)  xx.  All  his  efforts 
proving  vain,  his  love  gave  way  to  wrath:  he 
smote  her  in  the  face  and  called  her  a  lascivious 
slave;  told  her  that  he  had  overheard  all  about 
her  love  for  an  adulterer,  that  she  ought  to  be 
glad  he  even  spoke  to  her,  and  that  if  she  would 
not  have  him  for  lover,  she  should  feel  his  power 
as  master.  "  I  will  bear  all  except  dishonor," 
said  Leucippe;  and  turning  to  Sosthenes:  "You 
know  how  I  meet  attempts  upon  my  chastity." 
Shamed  by  this  exposure  of  his  conduct,  Sos- 
thenes advised  Thersander  to  scourge  and  torture 
Leucippe.  xxi.  "  Ay,  do !  "  cried  Leucippe — 
"  bring  on  your  rack,  your  wheel,  your  whips, 
your  fire,  your  iron.  I  stand  ready — one  woman 
against  all  your  tortures — and  victorious  over  all ! 
You  who  call  Clitophon  adulterer,  but  would 
yourself  commit  adultery — do  you  not  fear  Arte- 
mis?— you  who  would  force  a  maid  in  the  city 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  91 

of  the  maiden  goddess  ?  "  "A  maid  forsooth !  " 
sneered  Thersander,  "after  passing  through  the 
hands  of  pirates?"  "A  maid  I  am,"  replied 
Leucippe,  "and  that  despite  Sosthenes.  Ask 
him !  He  was  my  pirate :  none  of  the  others 
carried  his  insolence  as  far:  this  is  the  real 
pirates'  den. — But  come:  I  can  only  gain  by  the 
torture  you  propose.  It  will  be  said :  '  She  saved 
her  virginity  from  pirates,  from  Chaereas,  from 
Sosthenes  ; — all  this  is  naught :  she  saved  it  from 
Thersander,  more  lustful  than  all;  and  he  who 
could  not  dishonor  her,  killed  her.'  On  with  the 
torture,  then !  I  am  a  woman,  naked  and  alone ; 
but  one  weapon  I  possess,  my  free  spirit,  which 
neither  blows  shall  break,  nor  steel  cut  off,  nor 
fire  consume." 

Book  VII 

i.  Thersander's  mind  fluctuated  between  grief, 
anger,  and  deliberation.  For  the  present  he  left 
Leucippe,  and  after  taking  counsel  with  Sostra- 
tus,  requested  my  jailer  to  poison  me.  The  jailer 
declined,  as  his  predecessor,  who  had  poisoned  a 
prisoner,  had  been  put  to  death.  Then  Ther- 
sander arranged  that  a  pretended  prisoner  should 
be  placed  in  my  cell,  to  inform  me  casually  that 
Leucippe  had  been  murdered,  by  the  contrivance 
of  Melitta.  The  purpose  was  twofold:  if  I 
should  be  acquitted  of  the  charge  of  adultery,  I 
should,  first,  believing  Leucippe  dead,  make  no 
further  search  for  her,  who  would  then  be  left 
wholly  at  Thersander's  disposal ;  and,  second,  be- 
lieving Melitta  guilty  of  the  murder  of  my  be- 
loved, should  have  nothing  further  to  do  with 


92  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

her,  but  leave  Ephesus  as  quickly  as  possible, 
ii.  The  fellow  being  brought  in  began  to  play  his 
part  at  once.  He  groaned,  and  exclaimed  upon 
his  bad  luck — speaking  to  himself,  but  at  me,  in 
order  to  excite  my  curiosity.  I  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  him,  but  at  length  one  of  my  fellow- 
prisoners  asked  what  had  brought  him  there,  and 
began  by  relating  his  own  story,  iii.  Then  the 
decoy  in  return  told  his  tale :  Yesterday  as  I  was 
going  to  Smyrna  I  fell  in  with  a  young  man  by 
the  way,  and  we  went  on  together  till  we  came  to 
an  inn,  where  we  stopped  for  dinner.  While  we 
ate,  four  men  came  in,  and  sitting  down  at  a  table 
near  by,  pretended  to  eat,  but  continually  looked 
at  us,  making  signs  to  one  another.  At  length 
my  companion  turned  pale,  ate  more  and  more 
hesitatingly,  and  began  to  tremble, — whereupon 
the  four  jumped  up,  seized  us  both,  and  bound 
us.  One  of  them  struck  my  companion,  who 
cried  out  as  if  under  torture:  'I  did  it — I  killed 
the  girl.  But  it  was  Melitta  paid  me  for  the 
job — Thersander's  wife.  Here's  my  pay — a  hun- 
dred gold  pieces — take  them  and  let  me  go.'  "  At 
the  names  Melitta  and  Thersander,  I  started  as  if 
stung,  and  asked  "  What  Melitta  ?  "  "  Why,  the 
Melitta,"  he  answered,  "  a  lady  of  rank  here. 
She  fell  in  love  with  a  young  fellow — a  Tyrian 
they  say — ,  but  he  already  had  a  mistress  among 
Melitta's  slaves ;  and  Melitta  out  of  jealousy  had 
her  murdered  by  the  fellow  that  bad  luck  threw 
in  my  way.  Well — they  took  me  up  as  his  ac- 
complice,— innocent  as  I  am,  but  they  let  him 
off,  all  because  he  gave  them  the  money." 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  93 

iv.  At  this  story  I  neither  groaned  nor  wept: 
I  had  neither  voice  nor  tear ;  but  I  shuddered ;  my 
heart  was  loosed,  and  my  soul  almost  departed. 
When  I  had  recovered  somewhat,  I  questioned 
him  further;  but  he  professed  to  know  nothing 
more. — Then  at  last  my  tears  came.  (Just  as, 
when  the  body  has  been  smitten,  the  bruise 
does  not  at  once  appear,  but  reddens  after  a 
little ;  or  as,  when  one  has  been  wounded  by  a 
boar's  tooth,  the  wound,  deep-seated,  cannot  at 
first  even  be  found,  but  after  a  little  a  white  line 
appears,  precursor  of  the  blood,  which  soon  flows 
freely:  so  when  the  soul  has  been  wounded  by 
the  dart  of  grief,  shot  by  a  word,  the  wound  does 
not  appear  at  first,  and  tears  follow  only  a  long 
way  after.  For  tears  are  the  blood  of  a  wounded 
soul.  And  when  grief's  tooth  has  somewhat 
gnawed  at  the  heart,  only  then  do  the  eyes  open 
the  gate  of  tears.)  v.  I  now  broke  forth  in 
lamentations:  "Alas,  Leucippe,  shall  I  never 
cease  to  weep  for  thee?  How  many  deaths  hast 
thou  died?  How  often  been  the  plaything  of 
Fortune?  Those  other  deaths  indeed  were  For- 
tune's jests,  but  not  this  last  one:  that  is  deadly 
earnest.  From  those,  again,  I  had  the  solace  of 
saving  some  part  of  thee — thy  body,  whole  or 
headless ;  but  now  I  have  lost  both  thy  soul  and 
thy  body.  Two  dens  of  thieves  didst  thou 
escape,  only  to  succumb  to  this  piracy  of 
Melitta's.  And  to  think  that  I,  infamous  and 
impious,  have  embraced  thy  murderer,  and  have 
given  to  her,  ere  I  gave  to  thee,  the  offerings  of 
Aphrodite !  "  vi.  At  this  point,  Clinias  came  to 


94  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

see  me;  and  I  told  him  the  story,  and  said  I 
contemplated  suicide.  He  tried  to  dissuade  me: 
"Wait  till  you  are  sure  that  Leucippe  is  dead. 
You  know  she  has  a  way  of  coming  to  life  again. 
Wait  at  all  events:  there's  always  time  to  die." 
"What  can  be  more  certain  than  her  death?"  I 
replied,  "Besides,  I  will  die  in  such  a  way  that 
Melitta  shall  not  escape.  I  will  plead  guilty  to 
the  charge  of  adultery,  and  will  further  confess 
that  Melitta  and  I  together  contrived  Leucippe's 
death ! "  From  this  resolution  Clinias  vainly 
endeavored  to  dissuade  me. — That  day  he  and 
Satyrus  changed  their  lodgings,  in  order  to  be  no 
longer  with  Melitta's  foster-brother.  On  that 
day,  too,  the  decoy  prisoner  was  liberated,  under 
pretence  of  being  sent  before  the  magistrate. 

vii.  Next  day  I  was  taken  to  court,  where 
Thersander  appeared  with  a  great  following,  and 
no  less  than  ten  advocates.  Melitta  also  had 
prepared  a  careful  defense.  When  the  advocates 
had  done  talking,  I  asked  to  be  heard.  "  All  this 
is  naught  to  the  purpose : "  said  I,  "  the  facts  are 
these.  A  long  time  ago  I  loved  a  woman  of 
Byzantium  named  Leucippe.  Believing  her  to 
be  dead,  for  she  had  been  captured  by  pirates  in 
Egypt,  I  met  Melitta,  and  we  have  since  lived 
together.  Upon  our  arrival  here,  we  found 
Leucippe  a  slave  to  Sosthenes,  Thersander's 
bailiff.  Just  how  a  free  woman  became  his  slave, 
or  what  was  his  complicity  with  the  pirates,  is 
for  you  to  determine.  When  Melitta  learned 
that  I  had  found  my  first  wife,  she  feared  to  lose 
my  affection  and  plotted  to  kill  Leucippe.  I 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  95 

joined  in  the  scheme — why  should  I  deny  the 
truth  ? — as  Melitta  promised  to  put  me  in  posses- 
sion of  her  property.  For  a  hundred  pieces  of 
gold  I  hired  an  assassin,  who,  having  done  the 
deed,  has  disappeared.  But  Love  has  punished 
me:  as  soon  as  I  heard  that  Leucippe  was  dead, 
I  repented — for  I  loved  and  still  love  her.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  I  accuse  myself, — that  you 
may  send  me  to  my  beloved.  A  murderer,  and  a 
lover  of  her  I  murdered,  I  will  no  longer  endure 
to  live."  viii.  My  speech  astonished  them  all. 
Thersander's  lawyers  already  claimed  a  victory; 
Melitta's  were  thrown  into  confusion.  Ques- 
tioned by  them,  she  agitatedly  admitted  some 
things  and  denied  others;  so  that  they  hardly 
knew  what  defense  to  adopt,  ix.  At  this  junc- 
ture Clinias  asked  a  hearing,  as  this  was  a  capital 
case :  "  Ephesians,"  he  said,  "  be  not  rash  to  con- 
demn a  man  who  asks  death  as  a  boon.  He  has 
falsely  accused  himself,  taking  upon  himself  the 
guilt  of  others."  He  proceeded  to  point  out  the 
inconsistency  of  my  killing  the  woman  I  loved 
and  loving  the  woman  I  killed,  and  of  my  loving 
Melitta  and  still  implicating  her  in  the  murder  of 
Leucippe.  He  added  that  I  merely  believed  Leu- 
cippe to  have  been  murdered ;  and  recounted  the 
facts  as  to  Sosthenes's  attempts  upon  her,  to- 
gether with  the  story  of  the  false  prisoner.  He 
then  suggested  that  this  man,  and  Sosthenes,  and 
the  maids  who  accompanied  Leucippe,  be  called 
as  witnesses.  In  conclusion  he  urged  that  I  be 
not  condemned  at  least  till  this  further  testimony 
had  been  heard;  for  that  my  grief  had  put  me 


g  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

out  of  my  mind,  so  that  my  confession  was 
naught,  x.  Though  many  deemed  this  a  reason- 
able argument,  Thersander's  counsel  demanded 
immediate  sentence  upon  the  self-confessed  mur- 
derer. Melitta  produced  her  maids,  and  required 
Thersander  to  produce  Sosthenes.  But  Ther- 
sander  instead  secretly  sent  Sosthenes  warning 
to  get  out  of  the  way.  Sosthenes,  who  was  with 
Leucippe  when  he  received  the  message,  was  so 
scared  that  he  at  once  took  horse  for  Smyrna, 
riding  off  in  such  a  hurry  that  he  neglected  to 
secure  the  door.  xi.  Thersander,  in  reply  to 
Clinias,  urged  that  sentence  be  pronounced :  what 
Clinias  had  said  was  all  irrelevant,  or,  if  relevant, 
might  be  admitted.  Certainly  Sosthenes  had 
bought  a  slave-girl ;  certainly  the  girl  had  been 
in  Melitta's  hands:  that  was  all  Sosthenes  could 
testify  to.  "  But  what  have  this  precious  lot, 
this  self-confessed  murderer  and  his  defender, 
done  with  my  property — that  very  slave-girl  ?  " 
he  continued, — making  this  point  in  order  to  sup- 
port his  claim  to  Leucippe,  when  she  should  be 
found  alive.  "  And  as  for  the  maids  who  were 
with  her,  you  hardly  expect  that  they  will  prove 
to  have  witnessed  the  murder — do  you?  Doubt- 
less they  were  separated  from  her  at  some  con- 
venient place  in  order  that  these  people's  hirelings 
might  do  their  work  in  secret.  That  story  of 
another  prisoner — who  ever  heard  such  a  cock- 
and-bull  story  as  that?  And  Sosthenes — where, 
I  ask,  is  Sosthenes?  I  strongly  suspect  that  they 
have  made  away  with  him  too,  and  that  this 
man  of  words  demands  him  in  order  to  em- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  97 

barrass  me.  I  don't  know  where  he  is, — haven't 
seen  him  for  three  days;  and  his  disappearance 
is  very  suspicious,  inasmuch  as  he  it  was  who 
first  informed  me  of  the  adultery.  Doubtless 
these  people  are  none  too  fond  of  him! — But 
now,  judgment!  Not  without  the  intervention 
of  the  deity  has  the  prisoner  confessed."  xii. 
Thersander  swore  that  he  did  not  know  what  had 
become  of  Sosthenes.  The  judge,  after  advising 
with  his  counsellors,  then  pronounced  sentence  of 
death  upon  me.  Melitta's  portion  of  the  case 
was  to  be  adjourned  till  the  testimony  of  the  ser- 
vants could  be  taken ;  Thersander  was  to  put  in 
writing  his  oath  as  to  Sosthenes ;  finally,  I,  being 
outlawed  by  my  condemnation,  was  to  be  ex- 
amined under  torture  concerning  Melitta's  com- 
plicity in  the  murder.  I  was  soon  bound, 
stripped,  and  hung  up  by  cords;  some  brought 
scourges,  others  the  wheel  and  the  fire; — when 
lo — the  priest  of  Artemis  was  seen  approaching: 
— the  sign  of  a  sacred  embassy.  During  the 
period  of  such  sacrifices  all  punishments  were 
suspended;  and  I  was  therefore  released. — The 
chief  of  the  embassy  was  no  other  than  Leu- 
cippe's  father  Sostratus.  Artemis  had  appeared 
to  the  Byzantines  and  given  them  victory  against 
the  Thracians,  in  gratitude  wherefor  the  victors 
had  sent  this  offering.  Moreover  she  had  ap- 
peared to  Sostratus  in  a  dream,  and  had  revealed 
to  him  that  he  should  find  his  daughter,  and  his 
brother's  son,  at  Ephesus.  Such  was  the  ex- 
planation of  his  presence. 

xiii.    When  Leucippe  found  the  cottage  door 
8 


98  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

left  open,  and  no  sign  of  Sosthenes,  she  took 
courage,  remembering  how  often  she  had  been 
saved,  and  determined  to  utilize  her  good  For- 
tune. She  at  once  retreated  to  the  temple  of 
Artemis,  and  there  took  sanctuary.  This  temple 
was  open  to  men,  to  free  maids,  and  to  slaves 
whether  maids  or  not;  but  a  free  woman  not  a 
maid  was  not  permitted  to  enter  it,  and  if  she 
did  so  was  put  to  death.  (A  slave  might  take 
refuge  there  to  appeal  to  the  law  against  her 
master:  if  he  were  adjudged  to  be  in  the  right, 
he  resumed  the  slave,  first  swearing  to  bear  her 
no  ill-will  for  her  flight;  if  her  complaint  were 
well-founded,  she  remained  in  the  temple  as  a 
servant  of  the  goddess.)  Hither  Leucippe  came 
at  the  time  when  Sostratus  had  taken  the  priest 
to  court ;  so  that  she  narrowly  missed  her  father, 
xiv.  When  I  was  released,  a  great  crowd 
gathered  about  me;  among  them  Sostratus,  who 
having  seen  me  in  Tyre  at  a  festival  of  Hercules 
some  time  before  our  flight,  recognized  me  at 
once — the  more  readily  as  his  dream  had  led  him 
to  expect  to  find  us — and  cried  out :  "  Here  is 
Clitophon — now  where  is  Leucippe?"  I  cast 
down  my  eyes  and  said  nothing;  but  the  by- 
standers told  him  of  what  I  had  accused  myself. 
At  this  he  struck  me  on  the  head,  and  almost 
pulled  my  eyes  out ;  for,  far  from  resisting,  I 
rather  offered  my  countenance  to  his  blows. 
Clinias  coming  forward  endeavored  to  pacify 
him.  "This  man,"  he  said,  "loves  Leucippe 
more  dearly  than  you  do;  and  it  is  only  because 
he  believes  her  to  be  dead  that  he  has  thus 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  99 

accused  himself."  But  Sostratus  lamented,  calling 
upon  Artemis :  "  Is  this  the  outcome  of  the  dream 
you  sent?  You  promised  me  my  daughter — you 
give  me  her  murderer ! "  Again  Clinias  an- 
swered :  "  Courage,  father, — Artemis  never  de- 
ceives. Leucippe  is  alive,  you  may  be  sure.  See 
how  wonderfully  the  goddess  has  rescued  Clito- 
phon  from  torture !  "  xv.  At  that  moment  one 
of  the  ministers  of  the  temple  ran  up  to  the  priest, 
saying,  "A  foreign  maiden  has  just  taken  refuge 
in  the  sanctuary."  I  began  to  take  hope,  and 
seemed  almost  to  live  once  more.  "  Is  she  not 
beautiful?"  asked  Clinias.  "Only  Artemis  her- 
self surpasses  her,"  was  the  answer.  "  Tis  Leu- 
cippe ! "  I  cried.  "  'Twas  even  so  she  named 
herself,"  said  the  minister,  "  and  declared  herself 
to  be  Sostratus'  daughter,  of  Byzantium." 
Clinias  broke  into  rapturous  applause,  Sostratus 
fainted  for  joy,  and  I  jumped  up  despite  my 
chains,  and  made  for  the  temple  as  if  shot  from 
a  catapult.  My  guards,  thinking  I  was  trying  to 
escape,  gave  chase,  but  my  feet  were  winged.  At 
length  I  was  stopped,  and  the  guards  coming  up 
would  have  struck  me ;  but  I  now  resisted ;  and 
they  dragged  me  towards  the  prison,  xvi.  Cli- 
nias and  Sostratus  came  up  again  and  remon- 
strated with  the  guards,  declaring  me  not  guilty 
of  the  murder  for  which  I  had  been  condemned, 
and  protesting  against  my  further  imprisonment. 
As  the  guards  declared  that  they  were  not  allowed 
to  release  a  condemned  prisoner,  the  priest  at 
Sostratus'  request  became  my  bail,  promising  to 
guard  me,  and  to  produce  me  in  court  whenever 


100  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

required.  Freed  from  my  chains,  I  ran  with  all 
speed  to  the  temple,  Sostratus  following.  But 
Rumor  had  outstripped  us  both;  and  already 
Leucippe  knew  about  both  Sostratus  and  me. 
She  darted  out  of  the  temple  and  threw  her  arms 
about  her  father,  but  at  the  same  time  turned  her 
eyes  to  me.  Restrained  by  respect  for  Sostratus, 
I  stood  still ;  but  was  wholly  absorbed  in  looking 
at  Leucippe ;  so  that  we  embraced  with  our  eyes. 

Book  VIII 

i.  As  we  were  about  to  sit  down  and  talk 
matters  over,  Thersander  came  up,  accompanied 
by  witnesses,  and  abused  the  priest,  both  for 
liberating  a  prisoner  under  sentence  and  for  de- 
taining Thersander's  slave,  a  lewd  woman. 
"  Slave  yourself  and  debauchee ! "  I  answered, 
"  She  is  a  free  woman,  a  maiden,  and  worthy 
of  the  goddess."  At  that  he  struck  me  re- 
peatedly on  the  nose,  so  that  the  blood  flowed, — 
until  his  fist  happened  to  hit  my  teeth.  My  teeth 
avenged  the  injury  done  to  my  nose,  and  he 
drew  back  his  hand  with  a  yell.  Feigning  not  to 
observe  his  hurt,  I  made  a  tragic  outcry:  ii. 
"What  place  is  safe  from  the  impious,  when 
the  very  temples  of  the  gods  are  violated?  Such 
deeds  are  wont  to  be  done  in  lonely  places  where 
no  eye  can  see ;  but  you  commit  them  in  the  very 
sight  of  the  goddess.  The  temple  gives  asylum 
even  to  criminals;  but  you  outrage  an  innocent 
man.  Your  violence  is  done  to  Artemis  herself. 
Not  only  in  blows  does  it  consist,  but  in  actual 
bloodshed.  What  a  libation !  Ionia  you  turn  into 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  IOI 

Scythia,  and  at  Ephesus  emulate  the  barbarous 
Taurians,  who  defile  their  altars  with  blood. 
Why  not  draw  your  sword  upon  me  ? — But  what 
need?  Your  murderous  hand  will  suffice."  iii. 
At  this  an  indignant  crowd  gathered  and  re- 
proached him,  as  did  also  the  priest.  En- 
couraged by  their  demonstrations,  I  exclaimed: 
"  Men  of  Ephesus,  behold  what  I  suffer — a  free 
man,  and  a  citizen  of  no  mean  city — my  life  con- 
spired against  by  this  man,  and  saved  only  by 
Artemis,  who  has  shown  him  forth  as  a  calum- 
niator. But  now  it  befits  me  to  go  forth  and 
wash  my  face,  lest  the  holy  water  be  defiled  with 
the  blood  of  violence."  Thersander,  as  he  was 
thrust  forth,  said :  "  Upon  you,  sentence  has  been 
passed,  and  execution  cannot  tarry  long;  as  for 
this  strumpet  who  would  pass  for  a  maid — the 
syrinx  shall  judge  of  her."  iv.  I  then  washed 
my  face,  and  went  to  supper  with  the  priest,  who 
received  us  most  kindly.  At  first  we  were  all 
silent;  I  ashamed  to  look  Sostratus  in  the  face; 
Sostratus  unwilling  to  look  at  my  eyes,  swollen 
by  his  blows ;  Leucippe  with  her  eyes  cast  down. 
At  length,  when  the  wine  had  somewhat  cheered 
us,  the  priest  requested  Sostratus  to  tell  his  story. 
But  he  passed  the  privilege  on  to  me.  "  Speak 
freely,  son,"  he  said,  "and  without  embarrass- 
ment. The  griefs  I  have  suffered  are  to  be 
attributed  chiefly  not  to  you  but  to  the  divinity. 
Moreover,  the  narration  of  griefs  which  one  no 
longer  suffers,  is  a  pleasure."  v.  Accordingly  I 
told  the  whole  story,  from  our  leaving  Tyre  to 
the  arrival  of  the  sacred  embassy,  suppressing 


102  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

only  my  actual  intercourse  with  Melitta.  I  went 
on  to  praise  Leucippe's  fortitude  in  enduring 
trials  even  more  cruel  in  order  to  preserve  her 
virginity ;  and  I  assured  Sostratus  that  we  had 
not  brought  our  marriage  to  its  consummation: 
if  there  were  maidenhead  in  men,  I  was  virgin 
as  to  Leucippe;  while  she  was  true  to  Artemis. 
I  then  deprecated  the  displeasure  of  Aphrodite — 
for  that  we  had  awaited  only  the  presence  of 
Leucippe's  father  to  approve  our  nuptials — and 
invoked  her  favor  for  the  future.  "  But  what," 
I  asked  the  priest,  "  is  the  meaning  of  Ther- 
sander's  threat  about  the  syrinx ?"  vi.  (He  an- 
swered by  describing  the  pipes  of  Pan,  and 
their  construction  according  of  the  laws  of  har- 
mony, and  by  recounting  the  myth  of  Pan  and 
Syrinx.)  "The  pipe  of  Pan,"  he  continued, 
"  now  hangs  in  a  cavern  in  the  grove  behind  the 
temple,  and,  having  been  consecrated  to  Artemis, 
affords  a  test  of  virginity.  She  who  is  to  under- 
go the  ordeal  enters  the  cave,  and  is  shut  in.  If 
she  be  a  clean  maid,  the  pipes  emit  sweet  sounds, 
the  doors  open  of  themselves,  and  she  appears 
crowned  with  pine.  If  not,  a  groan  is  heard,  the 
pipes  are  mute,  and  she  is  left  to  her  fate.  After 
three  days  the  priestess  enters,  and  finds  the 
syrinx  fallen  to  the  ground ;  but  the  woman  has 
vanished.  If,  now,  as  I  hope,  Leucippe  is  a 
virgin,  you  may  joyfully  submit  to  the  ordeal ;  but 
if  not — for  you  know  what  she  may  against  her 
will  have  been  compelled  to  suffer  in  the  course 
of  such  perils — "  vii.  Here  Leucippe  inter- 
rupted, expressing  her  entire  willingness  to  take 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  103 

the  ordeal ;  and  the  priest  congratulated  her  upon 
her  virtue  and  her  fortune.  To  both  Leucippe 
and  me  it  seemed  that  Sostratus  somewhat  feared 
the  issue;  accordingly,  as  she  embraced  him  on 
retiring,  she  assured  him  again,  upon  her  oath  by 
Artemis,  that  we  had  spoken  the  truth.  Then 
we  all  went  to  bed. 

Next  day  the  sacred  embassy  fulfilled  its  mis- 
sion ;  and  Thersander,  present  at  the  sacrifice, 
asked  that  the  case  be  set  down  for  the  morrow. 
His  request  was  granted,  viii.  When  the  trial 
opened,  Thersander  said :  "  I  cannot  do  justice  to 
this  case,  so  complicated  is  it  with  a  variety  of 
crimes.  An  adulterer  murders  other  people's 
slaves ;  a  murderer  commits  adultery ;  bullies  and 
harlots  defile  the  sanctuary.  Where  shall  I  be- 
gin, then  ?  The  simplest  point  is  this : — you  have 
sentenced  a  man  to  death : — why  is  he  not  exe- 
cuted? Instead,  he  stands  here  free,  and  will 
dare  to  speak  against  your  judgment.  I  demand 
that  the  sentence  be  read.  '  Clitophon  is  to  die.' 
Where  is  the  executioner?  Let  him  do  his  duty. 
Clitophon  is  in  law  already  dead,  and  has  lived 
a  day  too  long.  Now  to  you,  Sir  Priest.  What 
is  your  excuse  for  liberating  this  prisoner?  Let 
the  Court  step  down  and  abdicate  its  jurisdiction 
to  you.  Come,  take  your  seat  as  tyrant  over  us 
all,  next  in  worship  after  Artemis!  Indeed, 
Artemis's  peculiar  privilege  of  sanctuary — that 
asylum  for  the  unfortunate,  but  not  for  the 
criminal — you  have  already  usurped!  You  give 
it  to  a  condemned  murderer  and  adulterer;  him 
and  his  shameless  paramour,  a  runaway  slave, 


104  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

you  shelter  under  the  same  roof  with  the  maiden 
goddess.  You  turn  the  temple  into  a  brothel. 
My  second  charge  is  against  Melitta  for  adultery, 
and  here  I  demand  that  her  maids  be  subjected 
to  the  torture.  If  she  be  innocent,  well;  if 
guilty,  let  her  forfeit  her  property  to  me.  In 
that  case,  too,  Clitophon's  guilt  is  proved,  and 
he  must  suffer  death  for  adultery.  Guilty  of 
both  crimes,  if  he  suffer  for  only  one  he  will 
evade  justice :  he  ought  to  die  two  deaths ;  and 
though  punished  he  will  remain  unpunished. — 
My  third  point  concerns  this  slave  of  mine ; — but 
upon  that  I  reserve  what  I  have  to  say  until  you 
have  decided  respecting  the  other  two." 

ix.  The  priest  now  replied,  beginning  in  an 
Aristophanic  vein  by  exposing  Thersander's  mode 
of  life,  whom  he  accused  of  all  imaginab'e  foulness. 
He  next  rebutted  the  charge  against  himself,  by 
appealing  to  the  judges'  knowledge  of  the  purity 
of  his  own  life.  Then  he  pleaded  for  me,  that 
the  very  woman  I  was  charged  with  murdering 
was  at  that  moment  alive!  In  the  face  of  this, 
how  could  the  sentence  hold  ?  Thersander  it  was 
who  would  play  the  tyrant;  he  would  have  men 
imprisoned  of  his  own  motion,  would  try  them 
and  judge  them  in  his  own  house:  the  judge  had 
better  resign  in  his  favor.  As  for  murder,  Ther- 
sander had  plotted  double  murder:  he  had  in 
words  done  Leucippe  to  death ;  and  Clitophon  he 
had  fain  done  to  death  indeed.  "  But  Artemis 
has  saved  them  both,"  the  priest  concluded, 
"  snatching  Clitophon  from  Thersander,  and  Leu- 
cippe from  Sosthenes, — whom  no  other  than 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  105 

Thersander  has  put  out  of  the  way.  So  much 
for  my  defense."  x.  When  the  advocate  for 
Melitta  and  me  rose  to  speak,  one  of  Thersander's 
counsel,  named  Sopater,  took  the  floor  first.  He 
accused  the  priest  of  improper  conduct  with  both 
Leucippe  and  me ;  averred  that  Thersander  had 
been  a  man  of  pure  life  who  had  married  a  lewd 
woman;  and  enlarged  upon  the  circumstances — 
publicity,  etc.,  of  Melitta's  alleged  adultery,  xi. 
Thersander  interrupted  him :  "  Let  us  waste  no 
more  words.  I  challenge  Leucippe  and  Melitta 
to  the  ordeal,  in  the  following  terms  (and  he  read 
aloud)  :  '  If  Melitta  have  not  committed  adultery 
with  Clitophon  during  my  absence,  let  her  go  into 
the  sacred  fountain  of  the  Styx.  If  Leucippe  ad- 
mit that  she  is  not  a  virgin  let  her  (die  or)  be  my 
slave,  for  only  to  virgins  or  to  slaves  does  the 
temple  afford  sanctuary;  if  she  insist  that  she  is 
a  virgin,  let  her  be  shut  into  the  cave  of  the 
syrinx.' "  Leucippe  accepted  the  challenge ; 
Melitta  not  only  accepted  it,  but  asked  Ther- 
sander to  what  penalty  he  would  submit  if  his 
charge  proved  groundless.  "  I  will  submit,"  he 
replied,  "to  whatever  the  law  decrees."  The 
court  then  appointed  the  following  day  for  the 
ordeals,  and  adjourned. 

xii.  This  is  the  legend  of  the  Stygian  fountain: 
Rhodopis  a  beautiful  maiden  had  vowed  allegiance 
to  Artemis,  who  made  her  a  companion  of  the 
chase.  Aphrodite  heard  the  oath  and  was 
angered.  At  Ephesus  there  was  a  beautiful 
youth  named  Euthynicus,  who,  like  Rhodopis, 
loved  the  chase  and  disdained  love.  One  day, 


1O6  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Artemis  absent,  Aphrodite  contrived  to  make  the 
game  they  followed  run  to  the  same  place,  so 
that  the  two  approached  each  other.  Then  she 
begged  Eros  to  make  an  example  of  this  dis- 
dainful pair.  He  shot  the  maiden  just  as  she 
shot  the  deer,  but  his  shaft  was  love  for  Euthyni- 
cus.  Euthynicus  he  wounded  with  a  second 
arrow.  Now  the  pair  beheld  each  other,  and  at 
first  stood  motionless,  unwilling  to  turn  away 
their  eyes;  but  soon,  their  wounds  inflaming, 
Eros  led  them  to  a  grotto,  where  they  broke  the 
oath.  When  Artemis  upon  her  return  saw 
Aphrodite  laugh,  she  comprehended  what  had 
taken  place,  and  she  changed  Rhodopis  into  a 
fountain  in  that  very  cave.  Hence,  a  woman 
whose  chastity  is  suspected  is  obliged  to  step  into 
the  fountain,  bearing  suspended  from  her  neck 
a  tablet  on  which  is  written  her  oath.  If  it  be 
truly  sworn,  the  fountain  remains  unmoved, 
midleg  deep ;  if  not,  it  rises  to  her  neck  and  over- 
flows the  tablet. 

xiii.  Next  day,  crowds  gathered  to  witness  the 
ordeal.  Thersander  looked  at  us  with  a  con- 
temptuous smile.  Leucippe  was  clad  in  the 
sacred  robe  of  fine  white  linen,  reaching  to  the 
feet  and  girt  at  the  waist;  her  head  was  en- 
circled with  a  purple  fillet;  her  feet  were  bare. 
Modestly  she  entered  the  cave ;  and  I  prayed  to 
Pan — not  that  I  doubted  her  virginity — but  rather 
that  I  feared  an  attempt  upon  her  by  Pan  him- 
self. I  prayed  him,  therefore,  to  be  mindful  of 
his  compact  with  Artemis,  xiv.  While  I  prayed 
there  was  heard  a  strain  of  music — the  sweetest, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION 


they  said,  that  had  ever  issued  from  the  cave  — 
and  at  once  the  doors  flew  open.  When  Leucippe 
came  forth,  the  multitude  shouted  with  delight, 
and  vented  execrations  upon  Thersander.  What 
were  my  transports,  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe. 

Next  everybody  went  to  see  Melitta's  trial. 
She  too  was  entirely  successful,  the  fountain  not 
rising  in  the  slightest;  and  after  the  allotted 
time  the  chief  judge  led  her  forth.  Thus  was 
Thersander  defeated  in  two  ordeals  ;  and  in  order 
to  avoid  a  third  —  (he  feared  he  should  be 
stoned!)  —  he  made  off  to  his  own  house.  And 
not  too  soon  ;  for  he  had  seen,  far  off,  Sosthenes 
being  dragged  in  by  four  young  men  —  relatives 
of  Melitta  and  their  servants  —  who  had  been 
searching  for  him  ;  and  well  he  knew  that  the 
slave  would  tell  all  when  put  to  the  torture. 
That  night  Thersander  fled  the  city,  and  Sos- 
thenes was  committed  to  prison.  As  for  us,  we 
were  triumphantly  acquitted,  to  everyone's  ap- 
proval. xv.  Next  day,  Sosthenes  made  a  full 
confession  to  avoid  the  torture,  and  was  re- 
manded for  sentence,  while  Thersander  was 
banished. 

The  priest  received  us  again,  and  at  dinner  we 
related  those  of  our  adventures  which  we  had 
omitted  before.  Leucippe  in  particular  no  longer 
blushed  to  tell  her  experiences  ;  and  I  questioned 
her  especially  about  the  mystery  of  the  pirates  of 
Pharos  —  of  the  person  whose  head  was  cut  off  — 
this  being  the  only  incident  wanting  to  complete 
the  plot.  [See  V.  vii.]  xvi.  "  The  pirates,"  she 
answered,  "had  lured  on  board  a  harlot,  under 


IOS  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

promise  that  one  of  them  would  marry  her. 
They  made  me  change  clothes  with  her ;  and  then, 
taking  her  on  the  deck,  they  cut  off  her  head  and 
threw  her  body  into  the  sea.  Afterward,  some 
distance  off,  they  also  threw  in  her  head. 
Whether  they  had  taken  her  to  sell  as  a  slave,  or 
for  the  purpose  of  this  qui  pro  quo,  I  know  not ; 
but  if  they  had  entertained  the  first  plan,  it  was 
at  Chaereas's  instance  that  they  gave  it  up,  and 
it  was  this  that  brought  about  his  punishment. 
For,  having  sacrificed  her,  who  would  have 
brought  them  profit,  they  now  proposed  to  sell 
me  instead,  and  merely  share  the  proceeds  with 
him.  Chaereas  protested,  reminding  them  of 
their  agreement,  and  words  rose  high — when  one 
of  the  pirates  came  up  behind  and  cut  off  his 
head.  So  he  too  went  overboard!  After  two 
days'  voyage,  the  pirates  took  me  I  know  not 
where,  and  sold  me  to  the  merchant  who  sold  me 
to  Sosthenes." 

xvii.  Sostratus  then  related  the  remainder  of 
the  story  of  Callisthenes  and  my  sister  Calligone. 
[See  II.  xviii.]  First  recapitulating  the  portion 
already  told — the  oracle,  the  sacrifice  and  the  ab- 
duction— he  continued :  "  Callisthenes  soon  dis- 
covered that  the  girl  he  had  carried  off  was  not 
my  daughter;  but  by  this  time  he  had  fallen  in 
love  with  Calligone  herself.  On  his  knees  he 
implored  her  pardon  for  his  violence,  revealed  his 
birth  and  rank,  averred  that  only  love  had  made 
him  turn  pirate,  offered  her  honorable  marriage, 
and  declared  himself  her  slave.  She  was  brought 
thus  to  favor  him.  When  they  reached  Byzan- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  109 

tium,  he  assigned  her  an  ample  dowry  and  made 
splendid  preparations  for  the  wedding, — all  the 
time  treating  her  with  scrupulous  honor ;  so  that 
he  gradually  won  her  affection.  He  became 
wonderfully  altered  in  character :  grew  courteous 
instead  of  insolent,  liberal  instead  of  extravagant, 
and  so  public-spirited,  so  respectful  to  his  elders, 
that  I  recalled  the  case  of  Themistocles,  and  re- 
gretted that  I  had  not  granted  him  my  daughter's 
hand.  He  now  qualified  himself,  too,  for  mili- 
tary service,  became  an  adept  in  cavalry  exer- 
cise, contributed  largely  to  the  war  with  the 
Thracians,  and  at  length  was  chosen  my  colleague 
in  the  command.  Here  also  he  distinguished 
himself,  and  always  with  modesty,  xviii.  When 
we  were  finally  victorious,  and  had  returned  to 
Byzantium,  it  was  decreed  that  sacred  embassies 
take  thank-offerings  to  Artemis  and  to  Hercules ; 
so  that  I  was  sent  to  Ephesus  and  he  to  Tyre. 
Before  setting  out  he  told  me  the  whole  story  of 
the  escapade  which  had  turned  out  so  creditably, 
and  added  that  he  should  ask  the  consent  of 
Calligone's  father  at  Tyre,  and  either  marry  her 
with  all  due  regard  to  law,  or  give  her  back  a 
maiden.  I  wrote  to  my  brother,  supporting 
Callisthenes's  suit.  Now  if  we  win  the  appeal 
Thersander  has  instituted,  I  should  like,  after  re- 
turning to  Byzantium,  to  go  to  Tyre."  xix.  It 
was  on  the  next  day  that  we  learned  from  Clinias 
of  Thersander's  flight  from  the  city;  whose  ap- 
peal, after  three  days,  lapsed  by  his  default.  We 
then  embarked  for  Byzantium,  where  we  were 
married;  and  a  short  time  later,  we  sailed  for 


IIO  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Tyre,  which  we  reached  two  days  after  the 
arrival  of  Callisthenes  and  Calligone.  Next  day 
we  assisted  at  their  wedding,  uniting  our  prayers 
for  the  happiness  of  both  the  marriages.  We 
planned,  after  wintering  at  Ephesus,  to  return  to 
Byzantium  in  the  spring. 


CHAPTER   II 

PLOT,  CHARACTER  (HUMOR),  SETTING;  STRUC- 
TURE, STYLE 

The  Greek  Romances,  evidently,  have  for  their 
material  the  staples  of  the  world's  fiction — love 
and  adventure,  more  or  less  interwoven;  and  it 
is  upon  this  generic  similarity  in  matter  that 
their  specific  differences  in  treatment  are  thrown 
into  relief.  For  the  present  purpose,  which  is 
rather  to  characterize  critically  the  Greek  Ro- 
mance than  to  appreciate  separately  the  Greek 
Romances,  it  will  suffice  to  draw  attention  to 
some  of  the  differences  without  dwelling  on  them. 
The  comparison  will  serve  the  descriptive  pur- 
pose in  view,  and  will  at  the  same  time  serve  to 
modify,  as  far  as  may  be  needful,  the  generaliza- 
tions put  forward  in  the  introductory  sketch. 

In  their  plots,  Heliodorus,  Longus,  and 
Achilles  Tatius  all  employ,  as  has  been  observed, 
some  agency  other  than  natural  causation  and 
human  character.  Heliodorus  distributes  the 
extra-human  action  in  his  main  plot  almost 
equally  between  Fortune  and  Providence — the 
latter,  perhaps,  slightly  predominating.  The  ex- 
posure of  Chariclea,  which,  both  chronologically 
and  causally,  begins  the  story,  is  by  common  con- 
sent regarded  as  an  avowed  surrender  to  Fortune 
(II.  xxxi;  IV.  viii).  But  immediately  Provi- 
dence sends  the  good  gymnosophist  to  the  rescue 
in 


112  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

— a  rescue  the  providential  nature  of  which  is  to 
be  inferred  indirectly,  though  clearly  enough, 
from  the  hieratic  estate  of  Sisimithres,  and  di- 
rectly from  the  assertion  of  Calasiris  (II.  xxiii)  : 
"  The  Goddes  have  made  them  my  children  by 
chaunce"  (U  63),  which  by  its  confrontation  of 
"  The  Goddes  "  with  "  chaunce,"  puts  the  matter 
beyond  doubt.  It  is  the  gods,  then,  that  have 
controlled,  through  Fortune  as  their  instrument, 
the  whole  of  that  triple  chain  of  seeming  coinci- 
dences which  brought  Calasiris,  Theagenes,  and 
Chariclea  together  at  Delphi.  An  examination 
of  these  occurrences  will  show  their  hieratic  char- 
acter. Charicles  a  priest  of  Apollo  has  received 
Chariclea  from  the  priestly  Sisimithres;  Chari- 
clea has  become  a  priestess  of  Diana ;  Theagenes 
has  come  to  Delphi  upon  a  religious  mission,  and 
first  sees  Chariclea  at  the  sacrifice ;  Calasiris,  him- 
self a  priest  of  Isis,  has  been  providentially 
warned  of  the  dangers  of  his  further  stay  in 
Memphis,  and  has  appropriately  retired  to 
Delphi,1  where,  now,  Apollo  and  Diana  by  dreams 
and  oracles  expressly  place  him  in  charge  of  the 
hero  and  the  heroine,  bid  him  return  with  them, 
and  predict  for  them  a  happy  destiny.  Thus 
Theagenes  and  Chariclea  are  passed  from  one 
priestly  hand  to  another;  even  the  sudden  death 
of  Calasiris,  which  throws  them  into  the  power 
of  Arsace,  has  been  foreseen,  and  ironically  fore- 
told by  the  oracle ;  till  at  the  end  they  are  saved 

1  On  this  hieratic  element,  and  its  special  connection  with 
the  cult  of  sun-  and  moon-gods  (Apollo,  Artemis,  Isis,  etc.) 
and  with  the  element  of  travel,  see  Schwartz,  Fiinf  Vor- 
trdge,  pp.  17-19. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  113 

by  the  appearance  of  the  priest  Charicles,  and 
their  restoration  turns  into  a  religious  festival. 
The  final  emphasis  is  distinctly  hieratic:  what  is 
signalized  by  Heliodorus  is  not  so  much  the 
merely  human  happiness  of  the  personages,  as 
the  triumph  of  the  gymnosophists  in  abolishing 
human  sacrifice,  the  fulfilment  of  the  Delphic 
dreams  and  oracles,  and  the  induction  of  The- 
agenes  and  Chariclea  into  the  priesthood. 
Though  in  the  whole  range  of  the  "^Ethiopica" 
the  events  attributable  to  Fortune  may  exceed  in 
number  those  attributable  to  Providence,  and 
though  the  name  of  Fortune  may  be  much  oftener 
upon  the  lips  of  the  actors,  this  hieratic  control, 
with  its  assertion  of  divine  guidance,  must  not 
be  forgotten.  It  quite  decidedly  makes  for  that 
general  elevation  of  tone  which  distinguishes 
Heliodorus. 

Bearing  it  in  mind,  we  may  examine  the  ac- 
tivity of  Fortune  in  the  "  yEthiopica."  Besides 
the  initial  exposure  of  Chariclea,  already  noticed, 
the  following  incidents  seem  fortuitous :  the 
storm  which  drove  the  ship  from  its  course  and 
toward  the  haunt  of  the  robbers  (V.  xxvii)  ;  the 
meetings  of  Calasiris  with  Nausicles  and  with 
Cnemon  (II.  xxi)  ;  the  capture  of  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea  by  the  troops  of  Mithranes  (V.  ii) 
with  its  consequences — the  enslavement  of  The- 
agenes, and  the  restoration  of  Chariclea  to  Cala- 
siris through  the  agency  of  Nausicles ;  the  re- 
capture of  Theagenes  by  the  Bessene  insurgents 
under  Thyamis  (VI.  iii)  and  the  consequent 
presence  of  Theagenes  at  Memphis;  the  inter- 


114  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

change  of  the  harmless  with  the  poisoned  cup 
(VIII.  vii)  ;  the  capture  of  Theagenes  and  Chari- 
clea  by  the  Ethiopian  troops  (VIII.  xvii),  and 
their  consequent  restoration  to  Hydaspes  and 
Persina.  Yet,  the  moment  the  consequences  of 
many  of  these  apparently  fortuitous  events  are 
looked  into,  it  is  found  that  they  too  are  en- 
visaged as  providential, — some  wholly,  like  the 
restoration  to  Ethiopia  promised  by  the  oracle; 
some  partly,  like  the  arrival  of  Theagenes  at 
Memphis  just  in  time  for  a  reunion  with  Chari- 
clea  and  Calasiris.  So  that  the  chief  of  these 
incidents — those  which  are  essential  to  the  main 
plot,  must  be  taken,  at  least  in  large  part,  out 
of  the  dominion  of  chance. 

In  the  episodes  of  the  tale,  though,  that  do- 
minion is  unquestioned.  The  story  of  Cnemon 
gives  no  hint  of  providential  guidance;  allusions 
to  the  control  of  Fortune  abound  (I.  xiii,  xv; 
II.  xi;  VI.  vii)  ;  and  the  ending — Cnemon's  mar- 
riage to  the  daughter  of  Nausicles — is  quite 
casual.  We  have  nowhere  heard  that  she  or 
Cnemon  gave  one  another  the  slightest  attention. 
Suddenly  we  are  told  (U  161-2)  "  Cariclia  per- 
ceived by  many  signes  that  Cnemon  was  in  love 
with  Nausicles  daughter  .  .  .  and  that  also 
Nausicles  went  about  ...  to  make  a  marriage  " 
between  them.  He  does  in  fact  offer  her  to 
Cnemon,  who  accepts  her.  The  alleged  falling  in 
love,  the  offer,  and  the  acceptance,  are  all 
equally  unmotived  and  unprepared  for — merely 
"  sprung."  Heliodorus  has  no  further  use  for 
Cnemon  and  Nausicles, — that  is  all ;  and  he  puts 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  1 15 

them  out  of  his  story  in  as  accidental  and  as 
summary  a  manner  as  he  had  put  out  Thermuthis 
(II.  xix).  Other  episodes — the  skill  of  Tyr- 
rhenus  the  deaf  fisherman  (V.  xviii),  The- 
agenes's  service  at  Arsace's  table  (VII.  xxvii), 
the  siege  of  Syene  (IX.  v),  the  attempted  as- 
sassination of  Oroondates  (IX.  xx) — all  likewise 
treat  Fortune  as  a  vera  causa. 

In  the  speech  of  the  personages  throughout, 
"  Fortune "  occurs  very  frequently, — now  as  a 
mere  cliche  for  "  whatever  happens,"  or  for 
"  estate  in  life,"  or  for  "  the  instability  of  things 
human"  (e.  g.,  II.  xxi,  xxiii;  V.  v,  xiv;  X.  ii)  ; 
now  in  real  though  conventional  senses,  as  a 
power  to  complain  of  or  abuse,  to  yield  or  not  to 
yield  to,  and  the  like  (I.  xx;  V.  vi,  vii;  VI.  xiv; 
VII.  xxi ;  VIII.  vi;  X.  vii)  ;  or  finally,  as  always 
in  the  episodes,  to  designate  a  genuine  mover  of 
events  (VI.  x;  VII.  xii,  xv,  xvii ;  IX.  ii ;  X. 
xxxiv).  But  here  too  the  reader  is  kept  re- 
minded of  the  enveloping  Providence  which  em- 
ploys Fortune  as  an  instrument.  When  The- 
agenes,  about  to  place  himself  and  Chariclea 
under  the  protection  of  Calasiris,  implores  him : 
"  Save  us.  ...  Save  our  bodies  hereafter  com- 
mitted to  Fortune,"  the  old  priest  bids  them 
"  hope  for  a  luckie  ende,  in  that  this  matter  was 
begonne  by  the  will  and  counsell  of  the  Goddes  " 
(IV.  xviii;  U  116-117).  In  these  words  of  com- 
fort there  is  an  implied  rebuke  as  well.  Chari- 
cles,  too,  though  he  laments  the  abduction  of  his 
adopted  daughter,  acknowledges  that  it  is  more 
than  a  mischance :  it  is  a  punishment  inflicted 


Il6  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

upon  him  for  sacrilege  (IV.  xix).  And  the  sub- 
jection of  chance  (Tv^,  /caipbs,  TO  avrdfiarov) 
to  the  more  august  Fate  or  Destiny,  or  "the 
Divine"  (at  /j-oipai,  TO  el^ap^evov^  6  Sai/juov,  TO 
Saipdviov,  TO  TrpocapLor/j-evov}  appears  plainly  in 
the  comment  upon  Calasiris's  opportune  arrival 
under  the  walls  of  Memphis:  though  he  "could 
not  escape  the  necessitie  of  Destinie,"  yet  he 
"  seemed  to  use  fortunes  great  favour  for  that  hee 
came  in  due  time  to  that  which  was  determined 
before"  (VII.  viii;  U  182). 

The  assertion  generally  accepted,  that  Fortune 
is  absolute  ruler  of  the  Greek  Romance,  seems 
therefore  subject  to  modification,  at  least,  as  re- 
gards Heliodorus.  Incapable  he  certainly  is  of 
moving  his  story  upon  a  basis  of  character  and 
causation;  in  fact  he  sometimes  seems  positively 
unwilling  to  do  so.  In  the  denouement,  where 
Chariclea  is  just  on  the  point  of  revealing  her 
true  relation  with  Theagenes — a  perfectly  natural 
disclosure  which  would  have  brought  about  the 
happy  ending  by  the  purely  normal  means  of 
human  motive  and  action — the  author  deliber- 
ately rejects  these  means  in  favor  of  a  deus  ex 
machina,  Charicles.  But  though  he  does  take  his 
plot  out  of  the  control  of  character  and  causation, 
he  does  not  abandon  it  to  Fortune.  At  least  its 
main  events  are  controlled  by  a  divine  intention, 
and  shadow  forth,  however  dimly,  the  ways  of 
the  gods.  Such  seems  to  be  the  task  that  Helio- 
dorus set  himself.  His  way,  therefore,  of  de- 
liberately unfolding  his  story  upon  a  plan  of  epic 
magnitude,  and  of  interlarding  it  with  fragments 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE    FICTION  Iiy 

from  Homer  and  the  tragedians,  is  not  the  in- 
congruity it  may  seem  at  first  to  be.  With  the 
literary  instrument  afforded  him  by  his  decadent 
time  he  has  attempted  great  things — things  far 
greater  than  he  can  achieve.  At  least,  magnis 
excidit  ausis;  and,  despite  his  failure,  it  is  his 
high  aim  which  saves  "  Theagenes  and  Chari- 
clea  "  from  sinking  into  the  baseness  of  "  Clito- 
phon  and  Leucippe." 

If  in  Heliodorus  Providence  on  the  whole  con- 
trols the  main  plot  and  Fortune  the  minor  events, 
this  apportionment  of  power  is  in  large  measure 
reversed  by  Achilles  Tatius.  He  does,  to  be 
sure,  give  to  the  episodic  novella  of  Callisthenes 
and  Calligone  a  conventional  hieratic  beginning. 
But  all  the  ceremonial  richness  of  these  sacrifices, 
omens,  dreams,  and  oracles  (II.  xi-xviii)  is 
lavished  upon  a  mere  episode.  The  main  plot  is 
ruled  by  Fortune :  there  the  oracles  and  visions 
are  her  instruments — riddling  devices  to  shift 
people  to  and  fro  on  the  earth,  to  put  them  into 
grotesque  situations,  or  to  give  ex  post  facto 
sanction  to  their  reckless  acts.  Thus  Artemis  is 
allowed  as  a  matter  of  form  to  pledge  the  lovers 
to  chastity  (IV.  i),  and  at  length,  after  Fortune 
has  played  her  play  out,  to  restore  them  to  Leu- 
cippe's  father.  But — why  did  they  need  to  be 
restored  at  all?  Why  did  they  run  away? 
What  were  they  doing  in  that  galley? 

The  answer  is  significant  in  two  ways,  which 
are  after  all  but  one:  it  shows  at  once  Achilles 
Tatius's  distorted  treatment  of  character  (and 
will  therefore  be  touched  upon  again  when  char- 


Il8  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

acter  comes  to  be  discussed),  and  also  his  utter 
dependence  upon  Fortune  to  start  his  story  and 
keep  it  going.  Fortune,  he  will  have  it,  is  to 
blame  for  the  flight  of  Clitophon  and  Leucippe. 
This  exoneration  of  the  lovers  is  put  not  in  their 
own  mouth  only,  but  in  that  of  the  parents  whom 
they  have  presumably  offended.  Clitophon's 
father,  we  learn  (V.  x),  was  much  chagrined  be- 
cause Clitophon  had  lost  Leucippe's  hand,  and 
"because  Fortune  had  made  him  lose  it  by  so 
little:  for  none  of  the  subsequent  events  would 
have  occurred  if  only  the  letter  had  been  delivered 
sooner."  Undoubtedly,  if  the  letter  had  come  in 
time,  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  would  not  have 
been  tempted  to  elope ;  but  the  fallacy  consists  in 
the  tacit  assumption  that  as  the  letter  did  not 
come  in  time,  therefore  it  was  Fortune  that  made 
them  elope.  In  fact  and  in  morals,  Fortune  be- 
ing what  she  was,  they  still  had  their  choice. — 
Clitophon  himself,  as  might  have  been  expected, 
takes  this  fallacious  view,  and  at  once  (V.  xi) 
rails  upon  Fortune.  But  the  most  striking  pro- 
mulgation of  the  fallacy  is  made  by  Leucippe's 
father.  Urging  Clitophon  to  tell  his  adventures, 
Sostratus  assures  him  that  he  bears  him  no  ill- 
will:  "  For  if  anything  grievous  has  happened  to 
me,  it  is  chiefly  attributable  not  to  you  but  to 
Fortune"  (VIII.  iv).  These  passages  are  char- 
acteristic and  important,  dealing  as  they  do  with 
what  iv e  should  call  the  crucial  decis:on — the  first 
moral  choice — which  opens  the  adventures  of  the 
hero  and  the  heroine.  The  view  here  taken  of 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  119 

Fortune,  as  something  to  blame  even  for  a  moral 
choice,  and  the  function  here  assigned  to  her,  of 
prime  mover  of  the  plot,  are  confirmed  through- 
out the  romance  of  Achilles  Tatius.  Clitophon's 
father  has  intended  Calligone  for  him,  but 
al  Moipai*  have  reserved  for  him  another  bride 
(I.  iii)  ;  Fortune  herself  appears  to  him,  portends 
her  own  cruelties  in  cutting  him  apart  from  his 
mistress  (ibid.)  and  begins  the  action  (TJpX€ro 
rov  Spa/iaro?  17  Tv^rj ) .  After  the  abortive  ren- 
dezvous the  young  men  determine  to  take  Leu- 
cippe  if  she  will  go;  if  not,  to  remain  at  home 
and  commit  themselves  to  Fortune  (II.  xxvi)  :  at 
length  they  embark  without  inquiring  whither 
their  ship  is  bound  (II.  xxxvi),  and  commit 
themselves  to  Fortune  indeed !  So  it  is  from  be- 
ginning to  end ;  and  to  recount  the  activity  of 
Fortune  in  the  story  is  to  recount  the  story  itself. 
Reference  to  the  analysis  given  in  Chapter  I.  will 
obviate  such  a  necessity.3  It  will  show  both  the 
frequency  with  which  Fortune  is  spoken  of  by 
the  personages,  and  the  fortuitous  character  of 
events  not  expressly  ascribed  to  her. 

a  As  Providence,  Destiny,  etc.,  play  so  small  a  part  in 
his  story,  Achilles  Tatius  has  no  particular  use  for  the  dis- 
tinction between  TI^X*?  and  its  synonyms  on  the  one  hand, 
and  6  da.lfj.uv  and  its  synonyms  (al  Mo?pcu,  for  instance)  on 
the  other.  Only  two  unimportant  passages  (III.  v  and 
VIII.  xix)  seem  to  rest  upon  such  a  distinction.  Else- 
where, as  at  V.  xi  and  VIII.  iv  above  cited,  6  5a.lp.uv  —  Ti/x'J. 
In  fact  Ti5x^  herself  has  almost  become  a  minor  goddess, 
like  the  Roman  Fortuna ;  she  can  be  sworn  by  (V.  xvi,  xx) 
as  well  as  at.  She  is,  at  the  very  least,  much  more  a  per- 
sonification than  an  abstraction. 

*  The  analysis  of  "  Clitophon  and  Leucippe "  was  made 
with  particular  attention  to  its  use  for  reference,  and  will 
serve  as  an  index  to  the  original. 


120  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Two  points,  however,  need  to  be  more  espe- 
cially noted,  as  effects  of  the  absence  of  Provi- 
dence from  Achilles  Tatius's  plan.  When  human 
activity  in  a  critical  situation  has  been  baffled, 
then  not  Providence,  but  Fortune,  takes  charge. 
So  of  Charicles  when  he  cannot  control  his  horse 
(I.  xii)  ;  so  of  the  eloping  party  in  the  storm  at 
sea  (III.  ii)  ;  so  of  Clinias  after  the  waves  have 
torn  him  from  the  spar  (V.  ix).  This  direct 
confrontation  of  Fortune  with  Man  is  even  more 
interestingly  exemplified  when  the  two  powers 
are  regarded  as  co-operating:  either  chance  helps 
a  human  plan  already  laid  (II.  iv,  vi ;  III.  xxii) 
or  a  human  being  sees  an  opportunity  open,  and 
takes  it  (I.  x;  IV.  i;  VII.  xiii).*  Both  the  op- 
position and  the  co-operation  of  Man  and  For- 
tune (due,  as  has  been  seen,  to  the  omission  of 
the  third  factor,  Providence)  anticipate  the  views 
so  characteristic  of  the  Renaissance,  that  For- 
tuna  is  opposed  to  "  Virtu " — viz.  the  human 
element,  or  force  of  personality;  but  that  Virtti, 
can  seize  the  Opportunity  (Occasio,  /cat/ao?)  from 
time  to  time  afforded  by  Fortuna* 

In  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe,"  control  is  assigned 
neither  to  Fortune  nor  to  the  gods  in  general, 

4  The  number  of  cases  where  Fortune  helps  the  lovers 
geems  to  invalidate  Koerting's  generalization  ("  Gesch.  des 
franz.  Rom.  im  i;ten  Jhdt."  I.  31)  that  love  is  the  motive 
force,  and  adventure  (i.  e.,  the  activity  of  Fortune)  the 
retarding  force,  of  the  plot ;  and  so  renders  impossible  the 
temptingly  simple  treatment  suggested  thereby. 

°  Chastity,  a  virtue  which  forms  part  of  a  woman's  virtti, 
is  coupled  with  Fortune  at  VIII.  vii,  where  the  priest  con- 
gratulates Leucippe  wrtp  aw^poa^iv^  n.a.1  TI/X^S.  At  V.  xii, 
Fortune  and  Nature  are  contrasted,  as  at  Hel.  VII.  xxvii. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  121 

but  to  Eros.  Love,  whether  as  a  passion  or  as 
a  person,  dominates  the  plot.  The  story  itself 
explains  a  series  of  paintings  which  represent 
"The  fortunes  of  Love"  (rv^nv  epcori/crjv,  Pro- 
oemium)  ;  and  it  is  Eros  that  first  disturbs  the 
childish  amusements  of  the  boy  and  the  girl  (I. 
xi)  and  begins  their  sentimental  adventures; — 
performing  thus  the  function  we  have  so  far  seen 
assigned  to  Fortune,  that  of  giving  the  initial 
impulse.  The  Nymphs  who  have  guarded 
Daphnis  and  Chloe  in  childhood  present  them 
to  the  winged  god  (I.  vii)  ;  again  (II.  xxiii)  the 
Nymphs  tell  Daphnis  that  Eros  will  take  care  of 
him  and  Chloe ;  and  (IV.  xxxiv)  it  is  Eros  whom 
the  Nymphs  request  to  sanction  Daphnis  and 
Chloe's  marriage.  Pan  and  the  Nymphs,  then, 
to  whom,  jointly  with  Eros,  the  book  is  dedicated 
(Procemium),  seem  to  be  deputies  of  Eros  in 
the  various  visions  and  rescues  in  which  they 
figure  (II.  xxiii,  xxvi-xxvii ;  III.  xxvii)  ;  while, 
for  both  Daphnis  and  Chloe,  the  denouement, 
resulting  from  the  discovery  of  their  parentage, 
is  brought  about  by  Love.  In  Daphnis's  case,  it 
is  Gnatho's  proposals  that  determine  Lamon 
(IV.  xviii-xix)  to  reveal  the  secret;  in  Chloe's 
case,  it  is  a  direct  command  from  Eros  in  a 
vision  (IV.  xxxiv)  that  leads  to  the  display  of 
her  tokens  to  the  wedding-guests,  and  the  con- 
sequent recognition  of  them  by  her  father. 

This  plot,  controlled  by  Eros,  Eros  decrees 
shall  be  a  pastoral  plot:  he  receives  the  children 
from  the  nymphs,  and  dedicates  them  to  the 


122  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

shepherds'  life  (I.  vii) — an  element  wholly  want- 
ing in  the  romances  of  Heliodorus  and  Achilles 
Tatius.  Heliodorus  makes  nothing  of  Chariclea's 
childhood  among  the  shepherds  (Hel.  II.  xxxi) 
and  leaves  in  a  rudimentary  state  his  "  piscatory 
eclogue"  (V.  xviii), — which,  however,  serves 
sufficiently  its  purpose  as  an  interlude,  or  breath- 
ing-space between  the  more  stirring  adventures. 
As  for  Achilles  Tatius,  he  is  a  cockney  absolute ; 
in  him  there  is  not  the  suggestion  of  a  pastoral. 
But  in  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe,"  Eros  divides  his 
honors  with  the  rustic  divinities — Pan  and  the 
Nymphs;  and  at  the  end,  we  learn  that  the 
young  couple  not  only  now,  but  during  the  re- 
mainder of  their  days,  led  a  pastoral  life  (IV. 
xxxix). 

Yet  it  should  not  be  overlooked  that  the 
pastoral  of  Longus  is  a  pastoral  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  city.  The  discovery  of  the  chil- 
dren's city  origin  is  regarded  as  a  happy  event, 
and  produces  the  denouement.  The  visit  of  the 
city  folk,  most  elaborately  prepared  for,  is  ag- 
grandized by  means  of  the  apparatus  of  tragedy 
(borrowed  by  Longus  only  this  once),  which 
through  a  series  of  rumors  and  messengers  an- 
nounces the  master  no  less  than  four  times  (III. 
xxxi;  IV.  i,  v,  ix) — each  time  as  coming  a  little 
sooner, — until  at  length  he  appears.  Though  the 
wedding  is  a  rustic  one,  its  rusticity  is  gently 
ridiculed6  (IV.  xxxviii,  the  over-nearness  of  the 

8  Angel  Day's  version  is  pervaded  by  this  indulgent  ridi- 
cule of  rustic  wits,  manners,  speech  and  dress. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  123 

goats  to  the  wedding-guests;  IV.  xl,  the  rugged 
chorus).  Moreover  the  whole  story  has  an  urban 
"  enveloping  action  "  at  the  beginning  and  at  the 
end,  in  the  exposure  and  the  restoration  of  the 
children.  From  this  plan  it  is  but  a  step  to  the 
employment  of  the  whole  pastoral  as  an  episode 
or  interlude  in  an  urban  story : — such  an  inter- 
lude permitting  a  plot  that  has  become  entangled 
with  the  complex  evils  of  court  or  town,  to 
straighten  itself  out  under  the  simpler  conditions 
of  country  life,  and  reach  a  happy  end.  Upon 
this  sophistication  in  Longus  we  shall  return 
when  we  come  to  speak  of  his  treatment  of  love. 
That  Fortune  should  have  little  or  no  power  in 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe  "7  is  a  natural  consequence 

1  As  a  cliche,  of  course,  "  Fortune "  occurs  frequently. 
At  I.  ii  and  I.  viii  it  simply  equals  "  estate  or  condition 
in  life ;  at  II.  x  it  means  little,  if  any,  more  than  our  "  it 
happened  " — rtfxi?  being  here  as  colorless  as  the  syllable 
"  hap "  in  our  verb.  More  real  are  the  attributions  of 
power  at  III.  xxxiv,  where  the  apple  is  said  to  have  been 
saved  by  Fortune ;  and  at  IV.  xxiv — a  passage  worth 
giving  in  full.  Daphnis's  father  speaks :  "  I  exposed  this 
child,  placing  these  (the  sword, '  etc.)  with  him  not  as 
tokens  by  which  he  might  be  recognized,  but  as  memorials 
with  which  he  might  be  buried.  But  the  decrees  of  For- 
tune were  otherwise  ( rb  5£  TT)J  TI^S  S.\\a  pov\ev/j.a.Ta).  For 
my  older  son  and  daughter  perished  in  one  day,  of  the 
same  disease.  But  thou  (Daphnis)  by  the  Providence  of 
the  gods  wert  saved  "  ((Ti>  5£  irpovolq,  Ocwv  tff&Oi]*).  The  evil 
— the  death  of  the  older  children — is  ascribed  to  Fortune ; 
the  good — the  saving  of  Daphnis — to  Providence.  Both, 
being  outside  the  action  of  the  story — (part  of  r&  Ufa  rov 
SpdfjMTos),  form  no  exception  to  the  rule  of  Eros  within  it. 
Of  this  passage,  which  Amyot  translates  plainly,  Day 
makes  a  hash.  For  the  rest,  it  may  be  said,  his  para- 
phrase gives  to  Fortune  much  more  scope  than  either  the 
Greek,  or  his  original  Amyot,  will  warrant.  (So  at  Da,  pp. 
p8,  99,  151,  153,  153-4, — none  of  which  are  in  Amyot  or 
in  the  Greek.) 


124  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

of  its  pastoral  theme  as  well  as  of  the  dominion 
of  Eros.  Just  as  the  pastoral  element  is  wanting 
in  Heliodorus  and  Achilles  Tatius,  so  is  the  ele- 
ment of  travel  wanting  in  Longus.  His  lovers 
remain  quietly  in  their  home  fields :  they  do  not 
"  look  for  trouble,"  like  the  errant  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea  and  Clitophon  and  Leucippe,  but  let 
trouble  come  to  them,  if  come  it  must.  And  the 
incursions  of  pirates  and  other  marauders  have 
for  Daphnis  and  Chloe  no  consequences  beyond 
temporary  distress;  unlike  the  corresponding  in- 
cidents in  the  other  Romances,  they  do  not  put 
the  lovers  in  any  new  situation  or  set  afoot  any 
fresh  train  of  adventures.  After  each  inter- 
ruption the  pastoral  goes  on  as  peacefully  as 
before ;  indeed  the  interruptions  serve  an  artistic 
purpose,  in  deepening  by  contrast  the  charm  of 
the  quiet  life.8 

Finally,  this  minimizing  of  the  control  of  For- 
tune carries  with  it  a  rather  remarkable  result :  In 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe "  causation  resumes  its 
sway  in  a  measure  quite  unknown  to  Heliodorus 
or  Achilles  Tatius.  Longus  works  out  carefully 
even  minor  incidents  like  the  admission  of 
Daphnis  to  Dryas's  cottage  (III.  vi-vii)  :  Daphnis 
would  not  have  been  admitted  if  Dryas  had  not 
come  out;  Dryas  would  not  have  come  out  if  a 
sheep-dog  that  had  stolen  a  piece  of  meat  had  not 
run  out  with  it.  So  of  the  bath  of  Daphnis,  led 
up  to  by  a  double  line  of  causes  (I.  xii-xii)  ; 
which  may  be  illustrated  thus: 

•  Cf.  Croiset,  "  Hist,  de  la  Litt.  Grecque,"  V.  800. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION 


A. 

A  wolf  has  been  carry- 
ing  off  lambs. 


The  shepherds  dig  a 
pit,  and  hide  it  with 
brushwood. 


B. 

Two  of  Daphnis's  goats 
fight,  and  the  victor 
pursues  the  van- 
quished. 


Daphnis    pursues 
pursuer. 


the 


Daphnis  falls  into  the  pit,  is  soiled,  and  must 
bathe. 

The  events  in  the  two  converging  lines  get 
under  way  simultaneously  but  independently ;  the 
train  is  laid;  and  Eros  touches  it  off.  So  that 
this  chain  of  causes  is  particularly  notable;  for 
it  is  the  elaborate  means  by  which  Eros  contrives 
to  start  the  children  upon  their  love-adventure. 
Daphnis's  bath,  it  will  be  remembered,  is  what 
kindled  love  in  Chloe.  We  have  here,  then,  the 
initial  impulse  of  the  tale,  given  not  by  Fortune, 
but  by  Love  employing  natural  causes. 

For  one  of  his  "  retarding  moments,"  the  war 
between  Mitylene  and  Methymne  (II.  xiii-xvii, 
xix),  Longus  employs  the  same  device  again, 
and  still  more  elaborately.  And  if  the  larger 
scale  of  this  event — an  event  not  pastoral  but 
political — does  not  in  itself  excuse  his  somewhat 
over-studied  construction,  let  his  excuse  be  that 
he  saved  Shakespeare  trouble  (see  post,  pp.  453- 
455).  After  all,  too,  the  result  is  quite  plausible. 


126 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


A. 

Countryman  breaks  the 
old  rope  from  which 
was  hung  his  grape- 
crushing  stone. 

I 

He  steals  rope  from 
Methymnaeans'  boat. 

I 

Methymnaeans  use 
osier  to  moor  boat. 


B. 

Methymnaeans'  hunting 
makes  a  great  noise. 

I 

Daphnis's  goats,  fright- 
ened from  their  pas- 
ture, are  driven  down 
to  the  seashore. 

i 
Finding  no  food  there, 

they  gnaw  the  osier 
through. 


The  boat  floats  away. 

I 

The  Methymnaeans  beat  Daphnis,  but  are  them- 
selves beaten. 

4 
They  incite  their  city  to  make  war  on  Mitylene. 

Such  is  the  part  played  by  Fortune  in  the  plot 
of  the  three  chief  Greek  Romances.  All-power- 
ful in  Achilles  Tatius,  she  is  subordinated  to 
Providence  in  Heliodorus,  and  in  Longus,  under 
the  limitations  of  the  pastoral  theme,  gives  way 
almost  wholly  to  the  sway  of  Eros  and  of  ordi- 
nary causation.  In  general,  her  control  is  evi- 
denced by  the  prominence  of  the  element  of  travel 
and  adventure,  and  is  naturally  at  its  minimum  in 
the  pastoral,  where  travel  and  adventure  are 
wanting. — There  remains  for  discussion  the 
second  principal  ingredient  of  the  plot  of  these 
Romances — the  element  of  Love. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  127 

It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  love  in  the  Greek 
Romances  is  sensual  love.  The  whole  genre  is 
saved  from  being  a  tribute  to  "the  great  god- 
dess Aselgeia  "  not  by  any  exalted  conception 
of  love  itself,  but  by  the  shifting  of  a  large 
portion  of  interest  and  emphasis  away  from  love 
altogether.  Such  dignity  as  these  love-stories 
possess  is  a  dignity  for  the  most  part  alien  to 
the  theme  of  love.  What  are  its  sources? 

A  feature  common  to  the  Romances  is  the 
preservation  of  the  heroine's  chastity  to  the  end 
of  the  story.  Chariclea  is  of  a  type  essentially 
celibate,  is  by  principle  and  inclination  opposed 
to  marriage  (II.  xxiii  ;  U  73-4),  and  yields  to  her 
overmastering  passion  for  Theagenes  (III.  vii, 
xix;  IV.  iv,  v,  vii,  x,  xi)  only  so  far  as  to  con- 
sent to  an  ultimate  union  with  him  under  the 
formal  auspices  predicted  by  the  oracle  (II. 
xxxv).  This  engagement  both  she  and  The- 
agenes keep  throughout  their  trials;  —  trials 
which  in  Chariclea's  case  indeed  are  most  re- 
spectable,9 as  all  her  lovers  —  the  Tyrian  ship 
captain  (V.  xix),  the  pirate  Trachinus  (V. 
xxviii),  the  chivalrous  bandit-chief  Thyamis  (I. 
xix-xxi),  and  even  the  treacherous  Achaemenes 
(VIII.  xxiii)  offer  her  marriage.  Her  very 
beauty  has  about  it  something  sacred  and  virginal 


:  Savez  vous  combien  elle  (i.  e.,  Mundane,  in 
"  Le  Grand  Cyrus")  a  etc  enlevee  de  fois  ?  Pluton:  Ou 
veux  tu  que  je  1'aille  chercher?  Diogene  :  Huit  fois.  Minos: 
Voila  une  beaute  qui  a  passe  par  bien  de  mains.  Diogene: 
Cela  est  vrai  :  Mais  tous  ses  ravisseurs  etaient  les  scelerats 
du  monde  les  plus  vertueux.  Assurement  ils  n'ont  pas  ose 
lui  toucher.  Pluton:  J'en  doute.  (Boileau,  "Les  Heros 
de  Roman,"  ed.  Crane,  p.  182.) 


128  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

(I.  ii,  iv)  ;  and,  at  the  close  of  the  story,  her 
beauty  and  her  chastity  together  are  vindicated 
with  eclat  by  the  ordeal  which  she  so  triumph- 
antly undergoes  (X.  ix).  Theagenes  too  resists 
both  the  wooing  of  Arsace  and  the  tortures  that 
she  inflicts  upon  him,  and  of  course  keeps  in- 
violate his  oath  to  respect  Chariclea. 

But  all  this,  exalted  and  laudable  though  it  be, 
is  not  so  much  love  in  our  sense  of  the  word  as 
abstention  from  love  in  their  sense  of  the  word. 
In  all  of  it  there  is  no  sign  that  love  is  anything 
but  physical  desire,  of  which  the  lovers  are 
simply  postponing  the  satisfaction.  Their  love 
at  first  sight  is,  obviously,  not  evolved  from  any 
previous  acquaintance,  or  based  upon  any  ripen- 
ing friendship.10  In  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe "  in- 
deed the  love  is  quite  frankly  sensual,  occasioned 
in  the  one  lover  by  a  kiss,  in  the  other  by  the 
softness  of  Daphnis's  body ;  in  "  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe  "  there  is  a  period  of  courtship  to  be 
sure,  ending  in — what? — the  rendezvous.  Even 
the  lofty-minded  Theagenes  and  Chariclea  are 
overcome  instant er  by  this  static  undeveloping 
passion  of  theirs.  Are  they  really  congenial? 
Are  their  tastes  alike,  or  complementary,  or  op- 
posite? Would  they  laugh  at  the  same  things, 
and  weep  at  the  same  things?  Who  knows? — 
There  is  not  a  hint  of  spiritual  companionship 
between  them;  not  a  hint  that  the  character  of 
each  is  to  be  rounded  out  by  that  of  the  other; 
not  a  hint  that  theirs  is  to  be  a  "marriage  of 
true  minds." — So  much  by  way  of  caveat;  for 

10  Cf.  Koerting,  op.  cit.,  I,  p.  30. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  129 

there  is  danger  of  mistaking  the  rarefied  atmos- 
phere, the  lofty  speeches,  and  the  grandiose 
framework  of  the  "yEthiopica"  for  something 
that  they  are  not.11 

There  is  no  such  danger  in  the  case  of  Achilles 
Tatius.  In  the  actual  preservation  and  vindica- 
tion of  her  maidenhood  Leucippe  resembles 
Chariclea,  but  there  the  resemblance  ceases.  In 
fact,  like  Mile,  de  Maupin,  Leucippe  has  re- 
tained rather  a  physical  than  a  moral  virginity. 
She  was  quite  ready  to  yield  to  Clitophon  before 
their  flight;  and  it  is  only  ex  post  facto  that 
this  wanton  elopement  of  theirs,  brought  about 
by  a  carnal  passion  which  they  would  have  un- 
thinkingly satisfied,  gains  divine  sanction  from 
the  interest  taken  in  it  by  Artemis  and  Aphrodite 
(IV.  i)  and  thenceforth  becomes  a  trial  of 
chastity.  But  even  had  Leucippe  entered  upon 
her  adventures  pure  in  heart,  these  are  of  such 
a  gross  and  revolting  nature,  they  involve  so 
much  physical  and  moral  exposure,  that  Artemis 
herself  could  hardly  have  come  through  them 
untainted.  The  brigands  and  the  false  belly 
(III.  xv),  which,  with  all  its  loathsomeness, 
Leucippe  keeps  on  her  body  until  nightfall  (III. 
xviii)  ;  Charmides  (IV.  ix)  ;  Gorgias  (IV.  xv), 
and  Leucippe's  unseemly  fit  (IV.  ix)  ;  Chaereas 
and  his  pirates,  and  the  poor  butchered  harlot 
(V.  vii ;  VIII.  xvi)  ;  Sosthenes  and  Thersander 
and  their  tender  mercies  (VI.  passim)  : — what  a 
set!  Unfortunate  as  Leucippe  is,  one  can  but 
feel  that  she  is  akin  to  those  errant  dames  who, 

11  De   Salverte   ("  Le   Roman  dans   la   Grece   Ancienne," 
pp.  382-4)  has  not  escaped  this  danger. 
10 


130  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

to  their  regret,  become  "the  Helen  of  so  many 
Parises"12  that  their  pristine  bloom  is  gone. 

Chloe,  like  the  others,  reaches  the  end  of  the 
story  still  a  maid ;  but,  radically  as  Heliodorus 
and  Achilles  Tatius  differ  in  their  treatment  of 
chastity,  Longus  differs  still  more  radically  from 
both  together.  For  whereas  they  both  enlist  the 
reader's  interest  in  favor  of  the  heroine's  efforts 
to  preserve  her  maidenhood,  Longus  enlists  the 
reader's  interest  in  favor  of  his  heroine's  efforts 
to  lose  hers.  At  least, — we  say — if,  in  the  other 
romances,  love  is  not  spiritual  but  fleshly — at 
least,  it  is  not  indulged ;  and  what  might  have 
been  an  orgy  is  turned  into  a  trial  of  chastity. 
But  what  can  possibly  make  this  romance  other 
than  salacious?  It  may  be  admitted  at  once  that 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe "  does  not  wholly  escape 
the  charge.  What  almost  saves  it  is  the  inno- 
cence and  the  inexperience  of  the  children,13 
together  with  the  charm  of  the  country,  and  of 
country  doings,  and  of  the  procession  of  the  sea- 
sons. But  the  point  of  the  story  still  remains  in 
the  piquancy  of  the  children's  experiments, — a 
piquancy  heightened  by  this  very  simplicity,  this 
very  naivete  of  theirs,  and  by  the  charm  of 
their  surroundings.  If  the  fruit  they  are  trying 
to  pluck  were  not  fruit  that  the  reader  knows  to 
be  generally  regarded  as  forbidden,  where — so 
we  may  fancy  the  sophist  asking — where  would 

u  "  Elle  cut  regret  d'etre  1'Helene 

D'un  si  grand  nombre  de  Paris." — La  Fontaine,  "  La 
Fiancee  du  Roi  de  Garbe." 
13  Cf.  F.  Jacobs,  Einleitung  to  his  translation  of  "  D.  and 

C.,"    PP.    11-12. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  1$! 

be  the  fun  in  watching  them?  Longus  with  all 
his  art  did  not, — or  rather  did  not  try ! — to  take 
his  emphasis  off  the  teasing  succession  of 
Daphnis  and  Chloe's  attempts,  and  place  it  wholly 
or  even  preponderantly14  upon  their  idyllic  sim- 
plicity, their  idyllic  environment.  They  are 
simple  enough,  but  we  are  not;  and  Longus 
knows  it.  One  reader  at  least  confesses  to  a 
feeling  of  distinct  relief  when  Daphnis  has  had 
his  lesson,  and  when  Chloe  is  no  longer  in  the 
uncertain  care  of  his  ignorance  but  in  the  more 
trustworthy  care  of  his  knowledge  and  his  con- 
siderateness  (III.  xx).  As  Senor  Menendez  y 
Pelayo  says,15  "  this  is  neither  the  true  and  sacred 
antiquity,  nor  the  grace  and  simplicity,  of  the 
young  world,  but  rather  a  pretty  painting  on  a 
fan,  recalling  those  of  France  in  the  eighteenth 
century."  In  a  word, — though  Daphnis  and 
Chloe  are  entirely  unsophisticated,  Longus  is 
sophisticated  through  and  through. 

All  this  is  but  to  say  that  the  Greek  Romancers 
could  not  jump  off  their  shadow,  and  that  love 
in  their  works  is  not  modern  love.  At  the  same 
time  it  ought  not  to  be  overlooked  that  love  in 
the  Greek  Romances  is  a  genuine  attachment, 
capable  of  waiting,  of  constancy,  and  of  sacrifice. 
Furthermore,  as  has  often  been  remarked,  both 
the  love  and  the  adventure  are  such  as  to  take 
women  out  of  the  seclusion  of  the  gyna'ceum 
and  make  them  for  a  while  the  companions — 
sometimes  even  the  leaders — of  the  men  they  are 

11  As    Raphael    Collin   has   done   in   his   charming   illus- 
trations. 
18 "  Origenes  de  la  Novela,"  I,  Introduction,  p.  x. 


132  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

to  marry.  So  much  dignity  the  element  of  love 
in  the  Greek  Romances  must  be  allowed  to  pos- 
sess ;  but  apart  from  this,  the  "  love-interest "  is 
nowhere  based  upon  a  sufficiently  exalted  concep- 
tion of  love,  or  upon  a  sufficiently  sound  "psy- 
chology," or  upon  a  sufficiently  profound  under- 
standing of  human  character,  to  be  in  itself 
ennobled. 

One  apparent  exception  is  found — of  all  places 
— joined  to  the  romance  of  the  gross-minded 
Achilles  Tatius.  It  is  not  too  much,  I  think,  to 
say  that  the  novella  of  Callisthenes  and  Calligone 
(II.  xiii-xviii;  VIII.  xvii-xix)  anticipates 
chivalry.  Not  only  does  Callisthenes  offer  mar- 
riage to  his  captive  mistress,  and  scrupulously 
respect  her  honor — all  without  being  bound  by 
any  oath,  or  actuated  by  a  regard  for  the  designs 
of  a  delaying  Providence ;  but  he  professes  him- 
self her  slave  (AoOXoy  ovv  fie  crectim)?  airo  raim;? 
TT}<?  r/fjiepas  W/u£e — VIII.  xvii)  ;  and,  most  sig- 
nificant of  all,  he  is  actually  transformed  in  char- 
acter by  love.  From  an  insolent,  evil-mannered 
profligate,  he  becomes  a  public-spirited  citizen, 
an  irreproachable  soldier,  and  a  pattern  of  cour- 
tesy. As  far  as  I  am  aware,  this  is  the  first  oc- 
currence in  literature  of  the  motif  of  transforma- 
tion of  character  by  love.  How  this  episode, 
so  suggestive  of  later  fiction,  got  into  "  Clito- 
phon  and  Leucippe,"  I  cannot  attempt  to  say. 
It  is  connected  with  the  main  plot  by  only  the 
slenderest  of  threads,  and  the  main  action  is  in 
any  case  wholly  unaffected  by  the  chivalrous 
nature  of  Callisthenes's  love.  And  because  of  its 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  133 

purely  episodic  character,  this  novella  need  not 
modify  what  has  been  said  about  the  general 
nature  of  love  in  the  Greek  Romances. 

The  episode  of  Cnemon,  in  the  "yEthiopica" 
(I.  ix-xvii;  II.  viii-ix;  VI.  ii,  vii,  viii),  is  much 
more  in  Achilles  Tatius's  vein.  Indeed,  Cne- 
mon's  novella  and  the  novella  of  Callisthenes  and 
Calligone  might  well  be  interchanged,  with  a  dis- 
tinct gain  in  unity  of  tone  for  each  of  the 
romances  in  which  they  occur.  For  while 
Achilles  Tatius  is  hardly  recognizable  in  the 
high-flown  sentiments  and  chivalrous  conduct  of 
Callisthenes,  which  seem  much  more  in  character 
with  Heliodorus,  just  as  little  is  Heliodorus 
recognizable  in  the  lewd  stepmother,  the  per- 
fidious slaves  and  dancing-girls,  the  qui  pro  quo 
in  the  dark,  and  the  general  atmosphere  of  low 
intrigue  and  chicanery,  that  prevail  in  Cnemon's 
story.  These  are  much  more  consonant  with  the 
main  plot  of  Achilles  Tatius.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  we  would  find  in  Achilles  Tatius  an 
episode  entirely  in  harmony  with  his  normal  atti- 
tude, we  need  only  turn  to  the  dubbio  at  the  end 
of  Book  II,  where  Clinias,  who  has  already 
signalized  himself  by  an  invective  against  women 
(I.  viii),  finds  a  like-minded  friend  to  maintain 
against  Clitophon  the  rival  merit  of  boys.  The 
debat  on  this  subject, — a  commonplace  of  late 
Greek  literature16 — gains  particular  point  and 
significance  here  because  it  rests  upon  a  Platonic 
original — viz.,  the  distinction  ("  Symposium," 

19  Salverte,  pp.  308-9  ;  Miiller-Christ  VII,  850.  And  cf. 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe,"  IV.  xvii ;  Plutarch,  "  Amatorius," 
passim. 


134  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

1 80)  between  earthly  and  heavenly  beauty.  Of 
this  it  is  an  impudent  parody.  Whereas  Plato's 
distinction  is  between  sensual  and  spiritual  love, 
the  dispute  in  Achilles  Tatius  is  merely  between 
two  varieties  of  sensual  love,  and  only  seeks  to 
determine  which  is  the  more  voluptuous.  In  the 
hands  of  an  Achilles  Tatius,  even  Platonism17  is 
debased  to  vile  uses. 

The  present  discussion  of  the  place  of  love  in 
the  plot  of  the  Greek  Romances  may  be  closed 
with  a  note  of  some  of  their  anticipations  of 
the  treatment  of  love  in  later  literature.  First 
of  these  is  the  worship  of  the  kiss.  Longus 
and  Achilles  Tatius,  but  especially  the  latter,  are 
devotees  of  the  kiss,  and  celebrate  it  almost  as 
persistently  and  variously  as  do  Marino  or 
Johannes  Secundus.  Chloe's  kiss  is  the  prize  of 
the  shepherd's  contest,  and  the  proximate  cause 
of  Daphnis's  love  (I.  xvii)  ;  Daphnis  gains  kisses 
at  second  hand  by  touching  with  his  lips  the  pipe 
already  touched  by  Chloe's  (I.  xxiv)  and  by 
drinking  from  the  same  place  on  the  rim  of  the 
cup  (III.  viii).18  The  latter  endearment  is  also 
practiced  by  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  (II.  ix)  ; 

"Except  a  passage  in  Longus  (II.  vii),  "Love  gives 
wings  to  the  soul"  (  6  "Epws  ...  rets  if/vxa-s  dvairrepot ;  cf. 
"  Phaedrus,"  246  ff),  I  recall  little  else  resembling  Platonic 
love-doctrine  in  the  Greek  Romances. — The  place  where 
Clitophon  tells  his  story — the  bank  of  a  stream  under  a 
plane-tree — recalls  the  opening  of  the  "  Phaedrus."  The 
"Phaedrus"  (251,  255  G)  and  the  "  Cratylus  "  (420),  also 
contain  the  theory  that  love  flows  into  the  soul  through 
the  eye  (cf.  post,  p.  135).  (The  last  two  citations  are  from 
Stravoskiadis.) 

18  So  in  Ovid,  "  Art.  Am."  I.  575  (cited  B  310  n.)  ;  cf.  also 
Ben  Jonson's  "  Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes,"  from 
Philostratus. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  135 

the  kiss  is  praised  to  the  skies  at  II.  viii  and 
IV.  viii;  and  at  II.  vii  occurs  Clitophon's  cele- 
brated stratagem  to  gain  a  kiss — a  stratagem  imi- 
tated in  Tasso's  "Aminta"  (I.  ii)  and  in 
D'Urfe.18  Even  Theagenes,  at  the  end  of  his 
race  at  Delphi,  "ranne  to  Cariclia  and  of  pur- 
pose fell  into  her  lap,  as  though  he  could  not  stay 
him  selfe :  and  when  hee  had  taken  the  garland,  I 
saw  well  enough  that  he  kissed  her  hande.  O 
happy  turne,  that  he  got  the  victorie,  and  kissed 
her  too"  (U  101 ;  IV.  iv). 

Like  much  else  that  "ain't  so,"  the  physics  or 
physiology  of  love  has  been  pretty  well  worked 
out,  and  reduced  to  a  systematic  pseudo-science, 
by  the  time  of  the  Greek  Romancers.  Heliodorus 
and  Achilles  Tatius  are  both  certain  that  love 
enters  the  heart  through  the  eye,  "  for  seeing  that 
of  all  our  other  pores  and  senses,  sight  is  capable 
of  most  mutations,  and  the  hotest,  it  must  needes 
receive  such  infections  as  are  about  it,  and  with 
a  hote  spirite  entertaine  the  changes  of  love." 
(U  87;  "T.  &  C,"  III.  vii;  cf.  "Phaedrus"  250 
on  the  keenness  of  sight,  and  on  the  theory  of 
the  eiS(a\ov}.  This  explains  love  at  first  sight 
("T.  &  C,"  III.  v;  "  A.  T.,"  I.  iv).  In  Achilles 
Tatius,  the  theory  is  not  that  of  a  "  spirite " 
(TrveO/ia)  as  in  Heliodorus,  but  that  of  an  image 
or  simulacrum  (et'&uXoz')  of  the  beloved,  as  at 
"A.  T.,"  I.  ix;  V.  xiii.  Both  theories  survive 
through  the  Middle  Ages  into  the  Renaissance.20 

19  As  to  D'Urfe,  Dunlop's  "  History  of  Fiction,"  I.  40. 

20  The  "  spirit  "-theory,  for  instance,  in  the  poets  of  the 
dolce  stil  nuovo,  and  in  Dante ;  the  "  eidolon  "-theory,  in 
the  concettismo  resting  upon  "  babies  in  the  eyes  " ;  e.  g., 
in  Donne. 


136  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

The  symptoms  of  love — "the  rowlinge  of  his 
eies,  and  soudaine  sighing  without  cause"  (U 
88);  "Cariclia  mad  almost"  (Gloss,  U  106)  ; 
the  blushing  and  paling  (A.  T.,  II.  vi)  ;  fasting 
("  D.  &  C,"  X.  vii ;  "  A.  T.,"  I.  v ;  V.  xiii)  ;  vigils 
("  A.  T.,"  I.  vii ;  "  D.  &  C.,"  I.  xiii ;  II.  vii)  ;  call- 
ing upon  the  beloved's  name  ("T.  &  C,"  VIII. 
vi)  ;  and  the  like,  in  their  frequent  repetition  in 
almost  the  same  terms,  give  evidence  of  having 
been  conventionalized  into  something  like  a  Code 
of  Love.  And  the  presence  in  Achilles  Tatius 
of  two  pretty  fully  developed  Aries  Amatoriae 
(I.  ix;  II.  iv),  setting  forth  the  lover's  proper 
procedure,  recalls  the  fact  that  it  was  upon  Ovid's 
"  Art  of  Love "  that  the  mediaeval  Code  grew 
up.  The  ancient  world  had  evidently  accumu- 
lated a  considerable  body  of  doctrine  on  this  sub- 
ject; and  Longus  in  his  Prooemium  even  pro- 
fesses a  didactic  purpose:  his  book,  he  says, 
"  will  refresh  the  memory  of  him  who  has  loved ; 
and  him  who  has  not  loved,  it  will  instruct." 

Love,  then,  as  an  element  of  plot,  receives 
rather  complex  treatment  from  the  Greek  Ro- 
mancers. Upon  a  basis  of  physical  attraction 
they  build  a  most  elaborate,  a  most  ornate  super- 
structure, which  more  or  less  conceals  its  own 
foundation.  To  vary  the  figure :  If  some  one  like 
the  dreamer  in  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  were 
to  seek  audience  of  this  Love,  he  would  behold 
first,  crowding  round  their  master  so  as  quite  to 
hide  him,  a  group  of  his  attendants, — True- 
Chastity  and  Doubtful-Chastity,  and  Long- Wait- 
ing, and  Constancy,  and  Dame  Adventure.  If 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  137 

he  persisted  in  making  his  way  through  this 
outer  circle,  he  would  next  encounter  Idyllic- 
Description,  and  Platonism-Counterfeit,  and 
Naive  Experiment,  and  La  Belle  Dame  fiman- 
cipee;  My  Lord  Episode  arm-in-arm  with  Sir 
Chivalry-Anticipate  and  with  the  prelatical  Or- 
donnance  Divine;  Dr.  Physiologic  d' Amour, 
body-physician  to  the  winged  boy;  the  Sire  Art 
d'Aimer,  Grand  Chamberlain  in  charge  of  his 
court-etiquette,  and  Dom  Intrigue,  his  barber  and 
confessor ;  and  others  too — all  still  trying  to  hide 
their  sovereign's  nakedness.  But  let  the  curious 
one  penetrate  to  the  presence.  There — there  is 
Love  himself — there  is  the  Prince : — a  large, 
handsome,  stout,  rather  stupid-looking  youth ; — 
vigorous,  but  somewhat  languid  with  kisses ;  and 
not  caring  at  all  whether  his  courtiers  hide  him 
or  not.  And  is  this  the  great  God  of  Love?  It 
must  be  so ;  there  are  his  bow  and  arrows,  and 
quiver  and  flambeau — '  But ' — the  dreamer  will 
exclaim — 'why, — where  are  his  wings  I" 
Dreamer,  let  me  tell  thee :  he  hasn't  any ! 

From  the  foregoing,  it  may  be  inferred,  and 
rightly,  that  the  Greek  Romances  give  to  plot — 
the  mere  happening  of  things — a  place  much 
more  important  than  they  give  to  character. 
This  fact  it  is,  indeed,  which  makes  them  ro- 
mances at  all  rather  than  novels.  Not  the  forces 
of  personality,  but  the  outward  forces,  Provi- 
dence, or  Fortune,  keep  the  story  alive.  In  a 
typical  passage  (ante,  p.  118)  it  has  been  seen 
how  the  personages  shift  upon  the  shoulders  of 
Fortune  the  responsibility  for  their  own  acts,  and 


138  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

the  blame  for  the  troubles  which  these  acts  have 
caused.  There  is  nowhere  the  slightest  hint21 
that  the  misadventures  of  Clitophon  and  Leu- 
cippe  are  the  punishment,  nay  even  the  result,  of 
their  own  undutifulness.  Quite  the  contrary; 
these  misadventures  purport  to  be  due  to  a  For- 
tune that  has  no  connection  whatever  with  the 
character  of  the  sufferers.  If  the  author  had 
observed  any  such  connection,  we  may  be  sure 
he  would  not  have  spared  us  a  sermon  upon  it; 
for,  as  we  shall  see,  moralizing  has  no  terrors  for 
Achilles  Tatius.  But  it  lies  well  within  the  legi- 
timate field  of  a  romancer  to  signalize  the  con- 
nection quite  artistically,  without  preaching  or 
any  artificial  insistence  upon  "poetic  justice." 
In  neither  the  one  way  nor  the  other,  neither 
inartistically  nor  artistically,  does  Achilles  Tatius 
offer  anything  on  the  subject.  The  moral  con- 
nections between  things — it  is  precisely  these 
which  he  everywhere  relaxes,  or  fails  to  observe 
at  all;  character  counts  for  as  little  as  may  be; 
and  each  person  is  a  pawn  in  a  game  played  by 
non-human  powers, — a  bit  of  matter,  with  a  con- 
sciousness incidentally  attached,  to  be  acted  upon 
by  outward  forces. 

The  result  is  that  out  of  that  incidental  con- 
sciousness, despite  the  romancer's  want  of  in- 
terest in  character,  certain  characters  do  after 
all  get  themselves  created.  They  are  for  the 
most  part  rather  despicable,  because  for  the  most 
part  engaged  either  in  giving  in  to  Fortune,  or 
in  wriggling  and  squirming  out  of  the  situations 

21  Dunlop  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding  (I.  42). 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  139 

in  which  Fortune  has  placed  them.  They  are 
mostly  of  a  timorous,  or  of  a  pliant  deceitful 
type.  Cnemon  is  an  arrant  coward:  he  is  afraid 
of  the  corpse  of  Thisbe  ("T.  &  C.,"  II.  v-vi), 
afraid  of  Thermuthis  (II.  xviii),  afraid  of  the 
dark  (II.  xx),  afraid  of  a  crocodile  (VI.  i)  and 
simply  panic-stricken  when  he  overhears  some- 
body calling  herself  Thisbe  (V.  ii-iii).  Daphnis 
is  utterly  incapable  of  courage :  he  resists  none 
of  the  attacks  made  upon  him  or  upon  Chloe,  but, 
if  possible,  hides  till  the  trouble  is  over  (II.  xx)  ; 
and  when  Lampis  has  carried  off  Chloe,  goes  to 
the  garden  and  wails  instead  of  pursuing  (IV. 
xxviii). 

In  the  policy  of  wriggling,  Calasiris  and  Chari- 
clea  are  adepts.  Chariclea  succeeds  so  well  in 
fooling  her  successive  suitors  with  promises,  that 
Calasiris  actually  rallies  her  upon  her  skill  in 
deceit  (VI.  ix).  But  he  himself — partly  respon- 
sible indeed  for  her  stratagems — is  an  arch- 
trickster.22  He  puts  off  the  Tyrian  merchant 
with  fair  words  (V.  xx)  ;  he  sets  the  pirates  by 
the  ears  (V.  xxxviii-xxx)  ;  instead  of  gaining 
Chariclea's  confidence  by  telling  her  that  he 
knows  she  is  in  love,  he  goes  through  the  mum- 
mery of  an  exorcism  (IV.  iv)  ;  he  sets  the  Del- 
phians  on  a  false  trail  (IV.  xix)  ;  wishing  to 
redeem  Chariclea  from  Nausicles,  he  feigns  to 
get  from  the  ashes  on  the  altar,  as  if  from  the 
gods  themselves,  the  amethyst  ring  which  he 
offers  (V.  xiii).  The  last  three  are  cases  of 
wholly  gratuitous  deceit:  apparently  Calasiris 

33  On  the  tradition  connecting  this  dissimulation  with  the 
priestly  character,  see  Schwartz,  pp.  17-19. 


140  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

would  rather  lie  than  tell  the  truth.  So  it  is  with 
his  pupil  Chariclea.  On  no  other  supposition 
can  the  reader  account  for  her  sly  and  under- 
hand conduct  in  the  denouement.  Her  own 
identity  has  been  established ;  she  has  been  saved 
from  the  sacrifice;  she  is  princess  of  Ethiopia: 
all  that  remains  for  her  to  do  is,  one  would 
think,  to  claim  Theagenes  as  her  husband,  and 
thus  save  him  too.  But  she  contrives  "  for  ulti- 
mate advantage  to  check  her  frenzied  feelings, 
so  as  to  wind  her  way  covertly  to  the  end  she 
had  in  view"  (X.  xix).  What  is  the  end  that 
she  can  better  gain  by  dissimulation  than  by 
frankness  ?  Why  should  she  "  by  indirection  find 
direction  out?"  Her  self -contradictory  lies  and 
dark  sayings  drive  her  father  to  distraction :  "  She 
called  him  her  brother  that  was  not  so.  When 
she  was  asked  who  this  straunger  was,  she  an- 
sweared  shee  knew  him  not:  then  sought  she  to 
save  him  as  her  friend,  whom  shee  knewe  not: 
which  when  it  was  denied  her,  she  besought  mee 
that  shee  might  kill  him  as  her  most  enimy. 
When  this  could  not  be  graunted  her,  because  it 
was  lawfull  for  none  to  do  it,  but  such  a  one 
as  had  a  husband,  shee  said  that  shee  was  mar- 
ried, and  named  not  to  whome.  How  can  shee 
have  a  husband,  whom  the  fire  declared  had  never 
to  do  with  her?  ...  I  never  saw  any  but  she, 
that  made  the  same  man  her  frend  and  enimie  in 
one  minute  of  an  houre,  and  fained  to  have  a 
brother  and  husband,  which  never  was  so"  (U 
275-6;  X.  xxii). 
The  truth  seems  to  be  that  Heliodorus's  own 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  141 

love  for  rhetorical  contradictions,  for  the  bizarre 
and  the  paradoxical,23  has  led  him  to  give  his 
heroine  this  utterly  false  motivation.  Let  us  not 
then  blame  Chariclea  too  severely  for  her  final 
bit  of  dissimulation.  But  what  can  extenuate 
her  advice  to  Theagenes  (VII.  xviii,  xxi,  xxv), 
at  first  to  feign  compliance  with  the  wishes  of 
Arsace,  and,  later,  to  comply  with  them  in  very 
deed  ?  It  is  tonic  to  hear  his  reply.  "  Be  sure 
I  cannot  f aine  any  such  thing :  for  to  say  and  do 
unhonest  thinges,  are  both  almost  alike  dishonest. 
...  If  I  must  suffer  any  thing,  as  well  fortune, 
as  also  the  constant  opinion  of  my  mind,  have 
inured  me  nowe  many  times  to  take  whatever 
shall  happen"  (U  197;  VII.  xxi).  But  though 
he  resists,  to  the  point  of  suffering  torture,  yet  he 
does  at  length  feign  this  very  compliance  that  he 
has  so  scorned;  and  he  equivocates  too,  justify- 
ing the  breach  of  Arsace's  promise  to  Achae- 
menes,  by  the  quibble  that  she  had  promised  not 
"  Chariclea  "  but  "  Theagenes's  sister  "  ! — as  if 
she  had  promised  a  name  and  not  a  person  (VII. 
xxvi). 

So  in  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe "  Dorco  having 
helped  Daphnis  and  his  goat  out  of  the  pit, 
the  children  give  him  the  goat  as  a  reward,  "  and 
meant  to  tell  those  at  home,  if  any  one  inquired, 
that  there  had  been  an  incursion  of  wolves " 
(I.  xii).  And  again  (IV.  x)  Astylus,  to  shield 
Lamon  from  blame  for  the  destruction  of  the 
garden,  promises  to  lay  the  blame  on  his  horse. — 
Two  gratuitous  lies. 

**  Reinforced  by  his  wish  to  delay  the  denouement,  and 
attribute  it  to  the  arrival  of  Charicles.  (See  ante,  pp.  112- 


142  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

In  Achilles  Tatius,  all  men,  and  women  too, 
are  liars.  Leucippe  cunningly  mixes  truth  with 
untruth  in  her  reply  to  her  mother.  "  My  vir- 
ginity is  safe;  and  I  haven't  the  ghost  of  a  no- 
tion who  was  in  my  bedroom  "  (II.  xxv).  CKto- 
phon  and  Satyrus  lie  gratuitously  to  the  porter 
(II.  xxvi).  Satyrus  has  gained  Leucippe's  new 
maid  by  feigning  love  (II.  xxxi).  Menelaus, 
who  might  be  supposed  to  have  better  taste 
than  to  play  conjurer's  tricks  at  the  moment 
when  Leucippe  has  come  back  from  the  grave, 
concocts  an  invocation  of  Hecate,  just  to  scare 
Clitophon24  (III.  xviii).  Menelaus  promises  to 
help  Charmides  win  Leucippe,  but  at  once  bears 
the  tale  to  Clitophon,  and  together  they  resolve  to 
deceive  Charmides  (IV.  vi).  Clitophon,  to  avoid 
the  consummation  of  his  marriage  with  Melitta, 
feigns  illness,  swears  that  he  wishes  to  comply 
but  cannot,  and  puts  her  off  with  false  promises 
(V.  xxi)  :  "flattered  her,  for  fancie  her  I  could 
not."  Melitta  devises  a  stratagem  to  enable  her 
doorkeeper  to  "  save  face " — a  stratagem  quite 
needless,  inasmuch  as  she  sends  him  out  of  the 
way,  and  we  never  hear  of  him  again  (VI.  ii). 
Her  story  to  her  husband  (VI.  viii-xi),  like  Leu- 
cippe's reply  to  her  mother,  is  most  cunningly 
compounded  of  truth  and  lies,  in  the  hope  that 
the  former  will  gain  credence  for  the  latter. — 
They  are  all  tarred  with  the  same  brush.  They 
all  cringe  and  comply,  and  wriggle  and  twist, — 
often  just  for  the  fun  of  it.  It  is  a  habit  they 

24  Cf.  "  T.  &  C,"  V.  ii-iii,  where  Chariclea  calls  herself 
Thisbe,  in  mere  silliness,  just  because  the  author  wants  to 
give  Cnemon  a  fright. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  143 

have  fallen  into  as  a  result  of  regarding  them- 
selves, and  of  being  regarded  by  their  authors, 
in  the  "bony  light"  of  playthings  of  chance. 

"  Character,"  says  Aristotle  (Poet.,  VI.  17),  "  is 
that  which  reveals  moral  purpose,  showing  what 
kind  of  things  a  man  chooses  or  avoids." — But 
what  if  a  man  choose  or  avoid  nothing,  but  only 
take  what  comes,  and  exhibit  his  sentiments 
about  it?  "Speeches,  therefore,"  Aristotle  goes 
on,  ('and' — we  may  add —  'authors'  comments 
and  analyses')  "which  do  not  make  manifest 
such  choice  or  avoidance,  or  in  which  the  speaker 
does  not  choose  or  avoid  anything,  are  not  ex- 
pressive of  character."  Now  in  the  Greek  Ro- 
mances, the  speeches,  and  the  author's  comments 
upon  them,  and  analyses  of  the  feelings  that  ac- 
company them,  are  largely  of  this  sort:  they  re- 
veal no  ethos.  What  they  do  is  rather  to  ex- 
press what  someone,  given  a  situation,  might  ap- 
propriately say.  It  was  a  well-established  exer- 
cise in  school-rhetoric  to  frame  precisely  such 
speeches — "'What  sort  of  things  Niobe  would 
say,'  'What  Menoeceus  the  patriotic  suicide/ 
'What  Cassandra  at  sight  of  the  horse,'  etc.";25 
and  we  know  that  the  taste  for  these  hypothetical 
speeches  lasted  through  the  Middle  Ages  on  into 
the  Renaissance,  where  it  produced  and  wel- 
comed such  collections  as  "  Silvayn's  Orator." 

25  Saintsbury,  "  Hist  of  Crit.,"  I.  95.  In  the  Greek  An- 
thology, Book  IX,  there  are  thirty  epigrams  (Nos.  451-480) 
in  this  kind;  e.  g.  (451)  T/ws  dv  efrrot  X670i>s  irpbs  TLp6icvr]v 
r^v  d5<-W  ^tXo/u^XTj  The  rubric  of  Book  IX  is  'APXH 
TfiN  EniAEIKTIKON  'EIIirPAMMATQN— showing  that 
this  sort  of  thing  was  regarded,  as  part  of  the  rhetoric  of 
display. 


144  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

The  late  Greek  rhetoricians  called  this  exercise 
Ethopoieia, — inappropriately,  for,  as  we  have 
seen,  it  expresses  not  character  so  much  as  the 
emotion  appropriate  to  a  "posited"  situation — 
that  is,  to  use  Aristotle's  terminology  again,  not 
^00?  but  Trades.  "May  the  Deity  grant  me" 
prays  the  author  of  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe"  (Pro- 
osmium  ad  fin.},  "May  the  Deity  grant  me,  un- 
disturbed myself,  to  describe  the  emotions  of 
others."  The  interest  of  the  rhetoricians  who 
wrote  the  Greek  Romances  is  not  in  the  ethical 
choices  and  avoidances  of  life  (remember  again 
Achilles  Tatius's  weakness  in  dealing  with  the 
crucial  moment  of  choice)  so  much  as  in  senti- 
ment or  emotion,  with  the  rhetorical  express:on  of 
it  in  set  speeches,  and  the  sophistical  accounting 
for  it  in  comment  and  analysis. 

Hence  the  long  accounts  of  Daphnis  and 
Chloe's  "  symptoms  " — of  precisely  how  they  felt 
when  they  fell  in  love,  and  precisely  how  each 
soliloquized  in  rhetorical  antitheses  (I.  xiii,  xiv; 
xvii,  xviii)  ;  and  the  repetition  by  Philetas  of 
the  symptoms  of  love  (II.  vii).  Hence  the  cor- 
responding accounts  of  Theagenes's  symptoms 
(III.  v,  x,  xviii),  of  Chariclea's  (III.  v,  vii,  xix; 
IV.  iii,  vi,  vii,  x,  xi)  and  of  Clitophon's  (I.  vi). 
So,  at  "  A.  T.,"  III.  iv,  we  are  instructed  as  to  the 
7ra#o9  of  a  lingering  death  by  drowning;  at  III. 
xi  and  VII.  iv  we  have  a  half  physiological,  half- 
psychological  account  of  the  7ra#o?  of  excessive 
grief,  and  of  why  it  is  tearless;  at  VII.  vii,  we 
learn  precisely  how  the  tears  of  beauty  operate 
upon  a  sensitive  soul  like  Thersander's ;  and  at 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  145 

VI.  xix  and  VII.  i  we  are  asked  to  follow  that 
same  "  schone  Seele  "  through  its  fluctuations  of 
rage,  grief,  deliberation  and  desire.  Twaddle ! 

Perhaps  even  shallower,  both  in  morals  and  in 
psychology,  is  the  rhetorical  show-piece  to  which 
we  are  treated  by  way  of  an  analysis  of  Leu- 
cippe's  emotions  under  her  mother's  reproof  (II. 
xxix).  As  if  the  feelings  of  shame,  sorrow,  and 
anger  were  necessarily  occasioned  by  some  other 
person's  words,  and  never  by  the  conscience  it- 
self! Or — granted  that  another's  words  occa- 
sioned them — as  if  they  never  convicted  one  of 
his  own  sin,  so  that  no  amount  of  "  back-talk  " 
would  cure  them !  This  is  the  view  of  the  mere 
sophist,  with  whom  words  count  for  everything. 
Again,  this  is  a  mere  show-piece  in  that  the 
analysis  of  Leucippe's  state  of  mind  is  needless — 
nothing  being  made  of  its  ingredients.  If  for  in- 
stance shame  had  tended  to  make  her  do  one 
thing,  and  anger  another,  and  we  had  been  shown 
how  her  action  was  due  to  one  or  the  other 
of  these  emotions,  or  to  some  composite  of  them 
— then  the  analysis  might  have  been  justified.  As 
it  stands,  it  is  a  piece  of  sentimentalizing  for 
sentimentalizing's  sake. 

Clitophon's  apostrophe  at  Leucippe's  coffin 
(III.  xvi)  and  his  lament  over  the  headless  body 
supposed  to  be  hers  (V.  vii)  are  inconceivable 
except  as  exercises  in  rhetoric, — pieces  of  etho- 
poieia  or  pathopoiela,  or  not  even  that.  For 
neither  is  in  any  sense  an  outburst  of  grief.  In 
both  alike,  the  purpose  seems  to  be,  not  to  express 
the  sorrow  of  a  bereaved  lover,  but  to  find  anti- 
ii 


146  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

thetical  things  that  may  be  said  about  the  bizarre 
physical  circumstances  of  Leucippe's  death, — as 
that  the  sea  possesses  her  head  and  Clitophon  her 
trunk,  or  that  one  part  of  her  is  buried  in  the 
coffin  and  the  other  part  in  the  brigands  !26 — The 
artifice  defeats  its  own  purpose;  the  emotion  is 
lost  in  a  crackle  of  antithesis,  and  the  reader  is 
merely  disgusted. 

But  to  leave  speeches  and  analyses  of  emotion, 
and  to  return  to  character  as  a  whole: — it  will 
be  useful  to  examine  some  of  the  personages 
and  types  which  issue  from  the  rhetorical  con- 
ception of  character  just  set  forth,  or  which  the 
romancer  found  at  hand  already  adapted  to  his 
superficial  treatment.  A  synthesis  of  the  char- 
acter of  Clitophon  proves  to  be  of  special  in- 
terest. His  tendency  to  blame  Fortune  for  his 
troubles  has  been  observed  (ante,  p.  118); 
and  from  the  garish  superficiality  of  his  grief 
(ante,  p.  145)  may  be  argued  the  shallowness  of 
his  feelings  in  general.  This  mere  sentimentality 
is  nowhere  more  evident  than  in  the  passage 
where  he  really  does  show  his  only  bit  of  decent 
filial  feeling.  When  he  hears  that  his  father  is 
on  the  way  to  Alexandria  (V.  xi)  he  exclaims: 
"With  what  face  can  I  look  upon  him, — I  who 
ran  away  so  shamefully,  and  who  corrupted  the 
charge  he  had  received  from  his  brother?"27 
Does  the  reader  look  for  an  act  of  real  piety 
from  this  youth  who  so  humbly  acknowledges  his 
former  impiety?  Surely  this  now  dutiful  son 

28  Cf.  pOSt,  p.    220. 

v  Cf.  VIII.  iv,  where  he  is  ashamed  to  face  Leucippe's 
father. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  147 

will  see  that  he  must  face  his  father  and  make 
atonement?  Well,  the  outcome  is:  "I  can't  face 
him.  I'll  run  away.  In  fact,  I'll  run  away  with 
the  widow." — Here  again,  at  this  second  of  his 
great  choices,  Clitophon  has  "  caved  in,"  lament- 
ably. 

Clitophon  possesses  physical  courage  when  no 
moral  question  is  involved,  but  he  is  wholly  un- 
supported by  a  good  conscience.  He  rushes  un- 
armed into  the  midst  of  the  pirates  who  are 
carrying  off  Leucippe  (V.  vii)  ;  but  he  allows 
Thersander  to  beat  him  ad  lib.,  not  only  after  his 
offense  with  Melitta,  when  he  has  richly  deserved 
his  beating,  but  even  before  his  offense,  when  his 
sense  of  righteousness  ought  to  have  made  him 
bold  despite  appearances  (V.  xxiii).  When 
Leucippe's  father  punches  his  head  (VII.  xiv)  he 
not  only  does  not  resist,  but  actually  offers  him- 
self to  his  assailant.  Here  again  the  apparent 
cowardice  may  be  explained  away  as  due  to 
reverence  for  Sostratus's  gray  hairs,  and  to 
Clitophon's  feeling  that  he  really  has  wronged 
Leucippe's  father. — But  what  shall  be  said  of  a 
hero  who  is  placed  no  less  than  three  times  in  a 
position  where  his  apparent  cowardice  needs  to 
be  explained  away  at  all?  He  really  is  a  trifle 
too  abject,  and,  if  he  gets  more  kicks  than  half- 
pence, certainly  invites  them.  The  height  of  his 
absurdity  is  reached  when  Thersander,  having 
given  him  a  bloody  nose,  happens  to  hit  Clito- 
phon's teeth  and  wound  his  own  hand,  so  that, 
as  Clitophon  triumphantly  narrates  (VIII.  i), 
"  My  teeth  avenged  the  injury  done  to  my  nose." 
Risum  teneatis,  amid? 


148  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

What  of  his  conduct  towards  Leucippe  and 
towards  Melitta?  The  abduction  of  Calligone 
(II.  xviii),  rendering  impossible  the  marriage 
between  her  and  Clitophon,  ought,  one  would  sup- 
pose, to  open  the  way  for  him  to  ask  Leucippe  in 
marriage.  Clitophon  himself  has  thought  of  his 
engagement  to  Calligone  as  an  obstacle  to  a  mar- 
riage with  Leucippe,  and  has  thus  by  the  plainest 
implication  indicated  that  marriage  was  what  he 
wished  (I.  xi).  Yet  no  sooner  is  the  obstacle 
removed  than  he  at  once  (II.  xix)  caps  his 
dishonorable  intrigue  by  persuading  Leucippe  to 
give  him  the  assignation  in  her  room.  Granted 
that  assignation,  elopement  follows,  naturally  if 
not  inevitably;  for  the  lover  would  in  all  prob- 
ability have  been  discovered,  and  in  any  case 
Leucippe's  mother  would  have  plagued  the  life 
out  of  her.  But — why  the  assignation  at  all? 
Clitophon,  though  of  course  he  could  not  have 
known  that  the  letter  offering  him  Leucippe's 
hand  was  at  that  very  moment  on  the  way,  just  as 
certainly  had  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Leu- 
cippe's hand  would  be  refused  him.  However, 
we  know  by  this  time  what  to  expect  of  a 
Clitophon. 

His  ethos  in  this  affair,  though,  is  actually  less 
unmotived,  or  less  perverted  in  its  motivation,  if 
possible,  than  his  ethos  towards  Melitta.  As 
long  as  both  Leucippe  and  Thersander  are  be- 
lieved to  be  dead,  as  long  as  Clitophon  is  sup- 
posed to  be  a  widower  and  Melitta  a  widow,  and 
both  together  lawfully  husband  and  wife, — as 
long,  that  is  to  say,  as  Clitophon  might,  in  right 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  149 

feeling  and  right  morals,  have  been  justified  in 
yielding  to  Melitta — ,  just  so  long  does  he  refuse 
to  yield ;  alleging  arguments  about  the  sacredness 
of  his  bond  to  the  dead  Leucippe,  his  horror  of 
desecrating  her  tomb  the  sea;  and  the  laws  of 
ocean  itself  enjoining  chastity  (V.  xiv-xvi). 
Then  Leucippe  is  found,  and  we  hear  (V.  xxi) 
that  Clitophon  feels  he  cannot  even  look  at 
another  woman ;  and  then  Thersander  reappears 
too ;  and  it  becomes  plain,  not  only  that  Clitophon 
is  a  married  man,  but  that  Melitta  is  a  married 
woman;  so  that  now  any  surrender  on  either 
part  would  indeed  be  a  double  adultery.  Well — 
this  is  precisely  when  he  does  yield  (V.  xxvii).28 
And  later,  this  perversion  of  all  decent  feeling 
and  morals  is  made  the  very  essence  of  the 
quibble  whereby  the  guilty  pair  are  saved: — viz. 
that  they  had  not  offended  during  Thersander's 
absence  (VIII.  xi). 

The  fact  is  that  Achilles  Tatius  is  simply  in- 
capable of  depicting,  we  will  not  say  lofty,  but 
reasonably  well-behaved  character,  even  in  his 
hero  and  his  heroine.  He  is  far  more  at  home 
among  the  low  characters  whom  he  gets  from  the 
"  New  "  Attic  and  the  Roman  comedy,  and  whom 
he  hands  over  to  the  fabliau,  and  to  Renaissance 
comedy  and  novella: — his  Satyrus  and  Clio,  in- 
triguing servants ;  his  Sosthenes,  a  pimping  slave ; 
his  Thersander,  a  husband  not  only  jealous,  but 
violent  and  foolish,  and  therefore,  as  by  a  law  of 
nature,  cuckolded  and  fooled  to  the  top  of  his 

*  Cf.  Passow,  in  Ersch  und  Gruber's  "  Encyclopaedic," 
I,  p.  304,  quoted  by  Jacobs,  "  Prolegomena  "  to  his  edition 
of  Achilles  Tatius,  pp.  xiii,  xvi. 


150  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

bent.  It  is  significant  of  the  viciousness  of  Ach- 
illes Tatius's  method,  however,  that  he  seeks  to 
give  to  even  this  great  oaf  a  certain  sentimental 
interest,  by  making  him  weep  sympathetic  tears 
for  Leucippe,  and  by  tracing  his  delicate  motives 
for  weeping  (VI.  vii).  But  all  is  vain;  Ther- 
sander  puts  the  capstone  to  his  folly  when  he 
himself  frames  his  challenge  with  the  qualifica- 
tion "during  my  absence"  (VIII.  xi)  ;  and  so 
he  is  fully  stultified,  e  al  fine  rimase  beffato  e 
schernito. 

Critics  have  often  remarked  that  in  the  Greek 
romances  the  women  are  superior  to  the  men, 
both  in  character  as  persons  and  in  characteriza- 
tion as  personages.  The  remark  is,  on  the  whole, 
justified.  Its  exact  value  may  be  tested  by  a  com- 
parison of  the  "best"  of  the  heroes,  Theagenes, 
with  the  "best"  of  the  heroines,  Chariclea,  and 
by  a  concluding  examination  of  the  characters  of 
Leucippe  and  Melitta. 

Theagenes  possesses  active  courage,  of  a  theat- 
rical, spectacular  sort.  He  is  ready  to  fight,  and 
when  he  fights  he  wins :  witness  his  victory  over 
the  pirate  Pelorus  (V.  xxxii)  and  over  the  cham- 
pion wrestler  (X.  xxx-xxxii).  He  resists  the 
torture,  and  continually  calls  upon  Chariclea,  and 
wishes  that  she  may  hear  of  his  fortitude  (VIII. 
vi).  About  to  be  sacrificed,  he  performs  aston- 
ishing feats  of  strength  and  address,  with  a  smil- 
ing countenance, — and — before  numerous  specta- 
tors (X.  xxviii-xxx).  Nor  is  he  without  moral 
fortitude  (cf.  ante,  p.  141).  Let  not  his  willing- 
ness to  commit  suicide  (II.  iv-v)  be  imputed  to 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  151 

him  for  cowardice ;  it  was  a  pagan  courage.  But 
evidence  it  certainly  is  of  the  kind  of  courage  he 
possesses — his  total  lack  of  that  fundamental 
cheerful  toughness  which  characterizes  the  real 
hero.  He  is  ready  to  "  cave  in,"  not,  like  Clito- 
phon,  in  moral  ignominy,  but  in  mere  gloom  and 
Acedia.  What's  the  use? — he  asks,  when,  having 
escaped  the  brigands,  he  and  Chariclea  see  them- 
selves about  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Mithranes's 
troops  (V.  vi-vii)  :  "Let  us  yielde  to  fortune, 
and  withstand  no  longer  the  violence  which  is 
ready  to  assault  us,  for  what  els  shall  we  gaine, 
but  fruitless  travell,  and  banished  life,  and  from 
time  to  time  be  scorned  of  the  Goddes?"  (Ui29). 
Of  the  pair,  Chariclea  is  by  far  the  tougher 
and  more  cheerful.  That  virtu  of  hers,  so  promptly 
exercised  in  fooling  her  suitors,  is  quite  as  prompt 
to  encourage  her  lover.  While  he  always  takes 
the  gloomiest  view  of  the  situation,  she  is  always 
hopeful.  In  answer  to  his  last-quoted  bit  of  pes- 
simism, she  "  allowed  not  all  that  he  had  said. 
Mary  she  thought  that  he  justly  accused  fortune, 
but  not  that  it  was  any  point  of  wisedome  to 
yielde  themselves  willingly  into  the  enimies  hands. 
.  .  .  Measuring  our  hope  of  time  to  come,  with 
experience  of  that  which  is  past,  howe  wee  have 
bene  diversely  preserved  at  such  time  as  is  not 
credible"  (U  129;  V.  vii).  She  it  is  who  keeps 
him  reminded  that  they  are  under  providential 
guidance.  When  they  have  been  taken  by  Hy- 
daspes,  and  Theagenes  breaks  his  bitter  jest  about 
their  golden  chains  (IX.  ii),  "  Cariclia  smiled 
.  .  .  and  brought  him  in  remembrance  of  that 


152  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

which  the  Gods  had  foreshewed  unto  them,  and 
so  put  him  into  better  hope"  (U  234).  She  is  a 
good  fighter  withal.  The  pirates  having  fallen 
out,  "  she  when  she  sawe  the  battaile  begonne, 
shotte  out  of  the  shippe  in  such  sort  as  she  never 
missed  one"  (U  151,  V.  xxxii).  Her  leadership 
is  recognized  by  Theagenes  quite  early  in  their 
acquaintance.  Upon  leaving  Delphi  he  swears 
not  merely  to  respect  her  honor,  but  "  that  he 
would  doo  all  thinges  in  such  sorte,  as  Cariclia 
would  have  him"  (U  117;  IV.  xviii).  Accord- 
ingly she  takes  the  initiative  in  telling  their  story 
to  Thyamis  (I.  xxii)  ;  and  she  soothes  and  ad- 
monishes Theagenes  (I.  xxv-xxvii),  who  doesn't 
in  the  least  understand  her  drift  or  relish  her 
apparent  willingness  to  marry  the  robber  chief. 
When  they  are  about  to  be  taken  by  the  troops 
of  Mithranes,  "  after  Theagenes  had  saide,  Let 
us  do  as  you  will,  she  went  be  fore  and  he  folowed 
her,  as  if  he  had  bene  tied  to  her  "  (U  129 ;  V.  vii, 
KaOciTrep  eXtcdfjievos — literally  'as  if  dragged!'). 
And,  towards  the  end,  despite  his  natural  desire 
that  she  shall  disclose  her  identity,  it  is  her  policy 
of  concealment  that  prevails  (IX.xxiii).  Through- 
out the  "  ^thiopica,"  at  least  as  far  as  concerns 
the  action  of  the  lovers,  within  the  small  scope 
left  to  them  by  Providence  and  Fortune,  dux 
femina  facti.™ 

No  such  function  of  leadership  is  assigned  to 
Leucippe  or  to  Melitta.    As  Leucippe  is  separated 

28  There  are  but  two  slips  in  the  characterization  and 
motivation  of  Chariclea :  her  calling  herself  Thisbe  (V.  iii ; 
ante,  p.  142  n.  24),  and  her  overdone  underhandedness  in 
the  denouement  (X.  xix— xxii ;  ante,  p.  140). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  1 53 

so  much  from  Clitophon,  and  the  story  is  told  by 
him,  we  see  comparatively  little  of  her,  and  do 
not  know,  for  instance,  how  she  felt  or  con- 
ducted herself  in  those  crises  of  her  career — the 
apparent  disembowelment  and  the  apparent  de- 
capitation. From  the  fact,  however,  that  her 
physical  sufferings  are  far  greater  than  his ;  from 
what  we  see  of  her  ability  to  take  care  of  herself 
by  way  of  cheerful  lying  (I.  xxv,  xxviii)  ;  and 
from  her  seldom  wasting  words  in  vain  lamenta- 
tion; we  may  well  infer  the  truth  of  the  assertion 
that  her  hopefulness  and  cheer  was  habitual 
(VIII.  xiii,  #  a/ao-o?  Kal  e\7Tt5  rj  avvij0r)<s).  But 
Leucippe  is  no  silent  martyr  of  virtue;  it  is  in 
expression  that  she  is  chiefly  gifted.  Her  skill  in 
mendacity  has  been  noted;  observe  now  the  dif- 
ference between  her  letter  to  Clitophon  (V. 
xviii),  with  its  direct,  practical  and  forcible  ap- 
peal, and  his  feeble  piece  of  antithesis  by  way  of 
answer  (V.  xx)  ;  finally,  hear  her  scathing  invec- 
tive against  Thersander  and  Sosthenes  (VI.  xii- 
xiii,  xviii,  xx-xxii).  She  fairly  routs  them;  but 
not  before  that  vitriolic  tongue  of  hers  has  flayed 
them  alive.  This  is  one  of  the  few  really  satis- 
factory scenes  in  Achilles  Tatius.30 

80  Even  in  this,  there  is  a  slip  in  the  characterization. 
Leucippe  (VI.  xviii)  is  made  to  say  to  Thersander:  "You 
will  not  succeed  with  me  unless  you  turn  into  Clitophon." 
Now  she  had  just  resolved  (see  her  soliloquy  VI.  xvi)  not 
to  mention  Clitophon ;  and  even  had  she  made  no  positive 
resolve,  it  was  most  unwise  to  mention  him,  as  it  could 
not  fail  to  infuriate  Thersander.  To  let  the  heathen  rage 
was  probably  the  author's  purpose;  but  that  does  not  justify 
him  in  making  his  heroine  tactless. — This  letting  the  heathen 
rage  appears  to  be  a  convention  of  the  Green  Romances. 
The  character  of  Greeks  is  represented  as  moderate  and 


154  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

But  as  a  work  of  art  no  other  character  in  the 
Greek  Romances  can  compare  with  that  of  Me- 
litta.  Very  lofty  or  edifying  art,  certainly,  this 
is  not,  nor  by  any  means  a  "  perfect "  or  "  ideal " 
character;  but  very  fine  and  accomplished  art  it 
just  as  certainly  is,  and  a  character  full-rounded, 
human,  and  sympathetic  despite  its  sins.  Next 
to  Melitta  the  other  personages — particularly  He- 
liodorus's  Arsace  and  Demaeneta,  who  outwardly 
are  akin  to  her — pale  into  mere  types  that  here 
and  there  emerge  into  individuality;  Melitta  is 
an  individual  first,  last,  and  all  the  time.  Her 
quip  about  the  cenotaph  and  the  cenogam  (V. 
xiv),  almost  the  first  word  we  hear  her  speak, 
marks  her  at  once  as  possessed  of  a  sense  of 
humor  actually  sufficient  to  enable  her  to  joke 
about  her  own  troubles ;  and,  unlike  Theagenes's 
bitter  jest  about  his  golden  chains  ("T.  &  C.," 
IX.  ii)  it  really  .does  stir  laughter.  This  is  the 
beginning  of  our  sympathy  with  Melitta, — a  sym- 
pathy confirmed  in  the  racy  scene  with  Leucippe 
(V.  xii),  where  Melitta  begs  her  own  rival  to 
make  her  a  philtre  for  Clitophon.  Upon  Leu- 
cippe's  malicious  inquiry — '  Is  the  gentleman  your 

self-controlled,  that  of  barbarians  as  subject  to  extremes  of 
ungovernable  passion — lust  in  women,  e.  g.,  Arsace ;  rage, 
or  abject  cowardice,  or  insolent  foolhardiness  in  men ;  e.  g., 
Thersander,  Thermuthis,  the  Egyptian  brigands  ("  A.  T.," 
IV.  xiv).  (Cf.  the  Saracens  in  Mediaeval  Romance  and 
in  the  Italian  Romantic  Epic ;  and  Herod  in  the  Mystery 
Plays.)  Such  a  survival  of  the  old  Hellenic  prejudice 
against  outsiders  remains  in  interesting  contrast  with  the 
new  cosmopolitanism,  exemplified,  e.  g.,  in  Achilles  Tatius's 
selection  of  Tyrians  as  his  hero  and  heroine,  or  perhaps 
still  more  strikingly  in  the  winning,  by  a  Phoenician  and 
a  merchant  at  that,  of  a  prize  in  the  Pythian  games  ("  T. 
&  C.,"  IV.  xvi). 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION,-  155 

husband?' — Melitta's  plain-spoken  answer, show- 
ing how  far  Clitophon  falls  short  of  justifying 
the  title,  at  the  same  time  reveals  to  Leucippe 
that  Clitophon  has  been  faithful  to  her.  On  both 
sides,  here,  there  is  broad  and  yet  fine  comic  char- 
acterization. But  observe  Melitta,  sola,  when  she 
picks  up  Leucippe's  letter  (V.  xxiv)  and  grad- 
ually realizes  the  true  state  of  affairs.  The  play 
of  her  feelings,  the  "  conflicting  emotions "  that 
Achilles  Tatius  is  so  fond  of  attributing  to  his 
personages — these  are  here  neither  more  nor  less 
than  the  reality ;  for  once,  his  analysis  is  entirely 
appropriate,  perfectly  measured,  and  quite  free 
from  superficial  rhetoric.  The  reading  of  the 
letter  occasions  an  emotional  display  the  ade- 
quate portrayal  of  which  would  tax  the  powers 
of  an  accomplished  comic  actress.  Evidently,  this 
woman  Melitta  is  not  a  mask;  evidently,  there  is 
some  emotional  depth  to  her. 

There  is  intellectual  depth,  too.  That  she 
should  deceive  her  husband  in  word  as  well  as 
deed  is  all  a  consistent  portion  of  her  character ; 
and  she  plays  the  part  to  perfection, — her  plausi- 
ble story  almost  convincing  Thersander  himself 
(VI.  xi).  She  withholds  her  knowledge  of  Leu- 
cippe's disappearance,  treasuring  it  up  against 
the  chance  that  Thersander  may  make  an  inves- 
tigation. In  that  case,  her  servants,  who  had 
accompanied  Leucippe  to  the  country,  would  tes- 
tify to  Melitta's  zeal  in  caring  for  Clitophon's 
wife,  and  in  searching  for  her  after  her  disap- 
pearance— the  plain  implication  being  that  Me- 
litta's relations  with  Clitophon  were  innocent; 


156  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

but  that  Leucippe  had  nevertheless  been  spirited 
away — a  fact  somewhat  awkward  for  Thersander 
to  explain!  (VI.  viii-x).  The  motivation  here 
has  been  thoroughly  studied  out ;  it  is  complete ; 
it  gains  our  assent  at  once.31 

ButMelitta  is  more  than  just  the  cunning  wife, 
la  rusee,  la  scaltrita,  of  the  novella  and  the  fab- 
liau;— she  is  a  woman  passionately  in  love,  and 
capable  of  suffering.  Her  love  for  Clitophon, 
which  in  its  beginning  is  innocent,  and  may  there- 
fore at  first  justly  claim  our  sympathy,  keeps  that 
sympathy  in  its  guilty  end — almost  excused 
(though  unjustified)  by  the  brutality  of  Ther- 
sander. At  least,  we  say,  I  will  not  cast  the  first 
stone.  For  this  woman  indeed  loved  much  and 
suffered  much :  in  all  her  pleading  with  Clitophon 
the  accent  of  truth  is  most  poignant.  This  pas- 
sion of  hers — in  both  its  senses — reaches  its  cli- 
max in  her  magnificent  tirade  to  Clitophon  in 
prison  (V.  xxv-xxvi) — a  remarkable  piece  of 
emotional  argument.  Achilles  Tatius's  antitheses 
and  climaxes,  and  the  whole  array  of  his  rhe- 
torical figures,  find  here  their  natural  and  proper 
place,  and  become  really  effective.  The  change 
of  Melitta's  mood,  so  clearly  and  truthfully  por- 
trayed; the  impassioned  eloquence  and  power  of 
her  pleadings;  the  real  pathos  of  her  situation; 
make  the  scene  a  masterpiece  of  serious,  nay 
almost  tragic,  characterization.  I  f  anything  could 

41  For  similar  skill  in  motivation,  cf.  the  plan  of  intro- 
ducing to  Clitophon  a  pretended  fellow-prisoner  (VII.  i). 
We  may  be  sure  that  Thersander  never  thought  this  out. 
It  savors  of  Sosthenes,  with  whom  Thersander  has  just 
been  conferring. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  157 

mitigate  Clitophon's  offense,  it  would  be  this 
splendid  appeal  from  this  splendid,  this  most  real 
and  humanly  sinful  woman.  No — decidedly — 
she  does  not  belong  in  the  novella  or  in  the 
fabliau,  but  rather  in  the  works  of  Balzac  or 
Flaubert.  In  the  Greek  Romances,  certainly,  with 
their  shallow  view  of  life,  their  dearth  of  mate- 
rials for  the  creation  of  personality,  their  subjec- 
tion to  Fortune,  and  their  voluntary  enslavement 
to  rhetoric,  characterization  could  no  further  go. 
At  the  end  of  this  treatment  of  Plot  and  Char- 
acter in  the  Greek  Romances  there  may  now  be 
briefly  discussed  an  element  which  partakes  of 
both — the  element  of  Humor.  Wyttenbach32 
says :  "  Heliodorus  argumento  compositioneque 
ad  heroicum  carmen  vel  tragoediam  accedit.  .  .  . 
Achilles  contra  manet  in  quotidianae  vitae  lege 
ac  consuetudine,  et  propior  est  comoediae ;  et  non- 
nunquam  ad  hilaritatem  et  festivitatem  remitti- 
tur."  The  more  these  Romances  are  studied,  the 
more  evident  becomes  the  justice  of  this  remark. 
Heliodorus  is  indeed,  both  in  substance  and  in 
structure,  idealistic,  heroic,  epic,  tragic;  Achilles 
Tatius,  realistic,  everyday,  pedestrian,  often 
comic.  And  it  is  a  fact  that  in  "  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe  "  humor  counts  for  much  more  than  in 
the  "  JEthiopica."  Ancient  criticism  too  saw  very 
truly  and  subtly  this  connection  between  realism 
and  comedy.  Longinus  (IX.  15)  observes  that 
both  poetry  and  prose,  in  their  decline,  resolve 
themselves  into  the  description  of  fjOos,  by  which 
he  appears  to  mean  not  so  much  character  as 

MBibl.  Crit.  Ft.  II,  pp.  57-5?.     Quoted  by  Jacobs,  Pro- 
legomena to  his  edition  of  Achilles  Tatius,  p.  xv. 


158  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

manners  and  customs  (mores').  The  Odyssey, 
for  example  (which  Longinus  considers  to  be 
not  up  to  the  true  epic  standard  set  by  the  Iliad) 
— the  Odyssey,  in  the  realistic  detail  it  gives  about 
matters  at  the  house  of  Odysseus,  becomes  as  it 
were  a  comedy  of  manners.  (f)  a7ratc/j,r)  rov  rrd- 
6ov<s  eV  rot?  /jL€yd\ois  avyvpafavo-i  KOI  rroirjrai^  et? 
r/dos  €K\verai.  roiavra  yap  TTOV  TO,  rrepl  rrjv  rov 
diKW  avra>  ^Lo\ojov/j,€va  olKiav,  oiovel 
Tt?  ecrriv  rjdoXoyovpevi).) 
It  might,  then,  be  assumed  almost  a  priori  that 
the  epic-tragic  main  plot  of  the  "^Ethiopica" 
would  offer  little  place  for  humor.  The  assump- 
tion is  justified;  such  humor  as  Heliodorus  is 
capable  of,  he  places  almost  wholly  in  his  epi- 
sodes. It  centres  about  the  figure  of  Cnemon, 
who  not  only  is  often  rallied  about  his  cowardice 
(ante,  pp.  138-139) ,  but  is  himself,  in  more  senses 
than  one,  a  sad  wag.  He  gibes  at  Theagenes  for 
being  agitated  at  the  sight  of  Thisbe's  corpse: 
"  though  you  had  a  swoorde  by  your  side,  yet 
you,  like  a  stoute  and  valiante  warriour,  were 
afraid  of  a  woman,  and  shee  deade.  .  .  .  Hereat 
they  [Theagenes  and  Chariclea]  smiled  a  little" 
(U  49).  Again,  when  the  young  couple  have 
agreed  to  disguise  themselves  as  beggars,  he 
shrewdly  nippeth  them:  "  That  will  be  well  (saide 
Cnemon)  for  ye  be  very  evell  favoured  people, 
but  moste  Cariclia,  whose  eye  was  lately  pulled 
out  [in  her  dream,  II.  xvi],  wherefore  me  think- 
eth  you  will  not  onely  aske  peeces  of  breade,  but 
coverletes  and  caldrons.  Hereat  they  smiled  a 
litle,  so  that  their  laughter  moved  but  their  lippes 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  159 

onely"  (U  58-9). — And  very  polite  at  that,  we 
should  say.  Encountering  Calasiris  near  Chem- 
mis,  Cnemon  asks  the  old  priest  who  he  is,  and 
Calasiris  returns  the  question ;  whereupon, "  That 
were  a  mery  jeste  in  deede,  saide  Cnemon." 
These  specimens  of  the  young  man's  humor  will 
probably  suffice;  if  not,  others  may  be  found  at 
U  65,  79-80,  156.  The  conversation  of  Calasiris 
with  the  deaf  fisherman  Tyrrhenus  (V.  xviii; 
U  137-8;  cf.  post  p.  196-197  n.  64) — also  an  epi- 
sode— affords  a  gleam  of  humor  in  the  deaf 
man's  answers  at  loggerheads.  There  is  still  an- 
other humorous  episode — the  meeting  of  Calasi- 
ris, Nausicles  and  Cnemon  with  an  anonymous 
youth  whom  Heliodorus  creates  merely  to  tell 
them  news.  Incidentally  this  "  messenger " 
appears  to  be  in  love  with  a  girl  named  Isias, 
who  is  leading  him  a  merry  dance  to  satisfy  her 
caprices.  Nausicles  indulges  in  a  bit  of  pleasan- 
try at  the  lover's  expense ;  who  hastens  off  to  his 
mistress,  and  the  incident  is  closed  (VI.  iii,  iv; 
cf.  post  p.  196-197  n.  64).  From  the  main  plot 
I  recall  but  three  humorous  passages,  likewise  of 
a  very  mild  order.  Calasiris  and  Chariclea  dis- 
guised as  beggars  jest  at  their  own  appearance 
(VI.  xi,  xii)  ;  Calasiris  rallies  Chariclea  upon 
her  expertness  in  inventing  schemes  to  put  off 
her  suitors  (VI.  ix;  cf.  ante,  p.  139)  ;  Theagenes 
jokes  ironically  about  the  golden  fetters  placed 
upon  him  and  Chariclea  by  the  Ethiopians  (IX. 
ii;  U  234,  quoted  post,  p.  214,  q.  v.}.  On  the 
whole,  humor  is  not  Heliodorus's  strong  point.33 

33  There  is  a  bit  of  unintentional  fun  in  Underdowne's 
version  of  one  of  Chariclea's  laments :  "  But  O  Theagenes, 


l6o  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

The  realistic  humor  of  Achilles  Tatius  has 
already  been  observed  at  its  best  in  the  scenes  of 
high  comedy  that  centre  about  Melitta  (ante,  pp. 
154-155).  Hardly  below  these  is  the  passage  at 
V.  xx,  where  Clitophon  protests  that  he  is  not 
really  Melitta's  husband,  and  Satyrus  answers 
'  Tush,  man,  you  sleep  with  her ! ' — the  sort  of 
answer  that  is  all-conclusive  in  Comedy,  and  can 
be  warranted  to  bring  down  the  house.  Repeated 
once  or  twice,  it  would  become  a  true  Moliere- 
esque  catchword,  like  "  Mais  que  diable  allait-il 
faire  dans  cette  galere?"  or  "Sans  dot!"  In 
fact,  the  whole  scene  is  richly  humorous,  from 
the  moment  when  Satyrus  declares  that  he  has 
mollified  Leucippe  by  telling  her  that  Clitophon 
has  married  Melitta  against  his  will — absent- 
mindedly  as  it  were — to  the  composition  of  Clito- 
phon's  silly  answer  to  Leucippe's  letter.  Very 
funny  too  is  the  solemn  beginning  of  the  supper- 
party  in  the  temple  (VIII.  iv)  :  Clitophon  with  a 
black  eye  and  a  bloody  nose  is  ashamed  to  meet 
the  eye  of  Sostratus  across  the  table ;  while  Sos- 
tratus,  having  given  Clitophon  that  same  black  eye, 
is  too  much  embarrassed  to  look  at  him.  The 
horseplay  implied  here  is  more  prominent  in  the 
broadly  comic  genre-picture  of  "  The  Husband's 
Return"  (V.  xxiii).  Clitophon  and  Melitta  be- 
ing at  dinner,  in  comes  Thersander,  and  boxes 
and  buffets  the  young  gentleman  about34 — who 

...  if  them  be  dead  ...  it  is  time  I  offer  these  funeralls 
to  thee  (and  herewithall  she  pulled  off  her  haire,  and  laid 
it  on  her  bed)"  (U  163;  VI.  viii). 

84  On  this,  and  the  other  scene  of  fustigation  in  the  tem- 
ple (VIII.  i)  cf.  ante,  p.  147. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  l6l 

meanwhile  philosophizes!  (Quaere,  whether  this 
be  not  a  burlesque  of  those  same  domestic  scenes 
in  the  Odyssey  which  displease  Longinus?) 
Achilles  Tatius's  fondness  for  low  intrigue  pro- 
duces several  genre  pictures  of  the  same  Flemish 
or  Hogarthian  realism.  Leucippe's  mother 
"  takes  on  like  anything  " ;  faints  ;  recovers ;  boxes 
Clio's  ears  ;  scolds  Leucippe ;  Leucippe  trumps  up 
a  story;  and  her  mother  again  "takes  on"  (II. 
xxiv-xxv).  The  talk  is  like  a  popular  Italian 
ballad-dialogue  between  a  strict  mother  and  a  gay 
daughter,  or  like  that  of  the  peasants  in  some  of 
Fortini's  novelle.  Again  (II.  xx-xxii),  two  in- 
triguing slaves  swap  fables,  of  which  the  second 
has  much  of  the  spirit  of  Uncle  Remus.  Or  Cli- 
tophon  and  Satyrus  go  by  night  to  Clinias's  lodg- 
ing and  try  to  rouse  him ;  while  they  are  under 
his  window  clamoring  in  the  dark  street,  they  are 
joined  by  Clio  the  slave-girl  (II.  xxvi)  : — a  vivid 
bit  of  genre.  Even  more  masterly  is  the  pica- 
resque scene  at  the  inn,  as  described  by  the  decoy- 
prisoner  (VII.  iii).  Either  of  these  last  might 
figure  creditably  in  "  Roderick  Random  "  or  "  Gil 
Bias."  The  antics  of  Clitophon  in  love  (I.  vi), 
the  further  talk  between  Leucippe  and  her  mother 
(II.  xxviii),Thersander's  precipitate  retreat,  "to 
avoid  a  third  ordeal"  (VIII.  xiv),  are  all  dis- 
tinctly amusing ;  but  the  modern  reader  will  hardly 
force  a  smile  at  Menelaus's  mummery  (III. 
xviii),  or  at  Leucippe's  unseemly  kicking  in  the 
convulsions  with  which  her  derangement  began 
(IV.  ix),  or  at  the  priest's  "  Aristophanic "  in- 
vective against  Thersander  (VIII.  ix).  Nor  will 

12 


162  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

he  find  to  his  taste  the  misogynistic  passages, 
which  undoubtedly  amused  the  Greek  and  prob- 
ably amused  the  Renaissance  reader : — the  cynical 
view  of  Sosthenes  (VI.  xvii)  ;  Menelaus's  argu- 
ments and  propensities  (II.  xxxv-xxxviii)  ;  Clin- 
ias's  invective  against  women  and  marriage  (I. 
viii).  It  is  of  interest,  however,  to  find  such  con- 
siderable portions  of  the  argument  de  conjuge 
non  ducenda  worked  out  at  this  early  date.  Satire 
against  women,  apparently  a  convention  of  Greek 
as  of  mediaeval  literature,  finds  a  place  not  only 
in  Euripides  and  in  Lucian,  but  in  Achilles  Tatius 
as  well. 

Longus  offers  few  specifically  humorous  pas- 
sages like  the  vintage-scene,  where  Daphnis  and 
Chloe  are  each  jealous  of  the  attentions  paid  to 
the  other  (II.  ii),  or  the  wedding  ( I V.  xxxviii-xl) 
where  the  smell  of  the  goats  and  the  rudeness 
of  the  rustic  chorus  are  gently  laughed  at.  His 
humor  is  rather  pervasive,  inhering  as  it  does  in 
the  incongruity  between  the  children's  innocence 
and  the  piquancy  of  their  experiments.  Unlike 
the  humor  of  Heliodorus,  which  is  verbal,  re- 
siding in  comment  or  gibe,  it  is  more  like  that  of 
Achilles  Tatius,  a  part  of  the  situation  itself, 
inherent  in  the  relations  of  the  persons  to  each 
other  as  the  plot  evolves. 

So  much  for  the  humor  of  the  Greek  Ro- 
mances. We  turn  to  a  study  of  their  Setting — 
their  background  in  time  (historical)  and  in  space 
(geographical),  and  their  general  mise  en  scene 
of  descriptive  circumstance. 

Among  the  Greek  Romances   known  to  the 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  163 

Renaissance  none  possesses  an  historical  back- 
ground that  is  at  all  definite,  accurate  or  consis- 
tent, or  that  vitally  affects  the  course  of  the  tale.35 
The  events  of  the  "^Ethiopica  "  are  supposed  to 
occur  while  Egypt  is  still  a  satrapy  of  Persia — 
i.  e.,  before  the  conquests  of  Alexander — and  at 
a  time  when  the  Satrap  is  at  war  with  the  half- 
legendary  King  of  Ethiopia.  Within  these  shad- 
owy limits  there  occur  plenty  of  anachronisms 
and  historical  inconsistencies  (Rohde  452-455), 
but  nothing  to  date  the  story.  Of  "  Clitophon 
and  Leucippe  "  all  we  know  is  that  its  events  take 
place  after  the  time  of  Alexander,  or  at  least 
after  the  foundation  of  Alexandria  and  the  build- 
ing of  the  Pharos,  and  before  the  final  destruc- 
tion of  the  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus.  Here 
again  a  supposed  war  between  Thrace  and  Byzan- 
tium pushes  its  way  into  the  plot,  and  takes  Leu- 
cippe to  Tyre.  But  that  is  all.  As  for  Daphnis 
and  Chloe,  for  all  we  know,  they  may  have  loved 
any  time  this  side  the  Golden  Age. 

The  geographical  setting,  despite  specific  names, 
is  hardly  less  vague  than  the  historical.  On 
Lesbos  there  are  undoubtedly  hills  and  streams, 
shores,  caves  and  harbors  such  as  those  described 
by  Longus ; — but  so  there  are  elsewhere.  Helio- 
dorus,  whose  detailed  accounts  of  matters  Egyp- 

35  The  Ninus-fragment  (discovered  1893)  and  the  romance 
of  Chariton  ("Chaereas  and  Callirhoe,"  first  publiched  1750) 
may  be  properly  termed  historical  fiction,  the  first  because 
of  its  historical  hero  and  heroine  (Ninus  and  Semiramis) 
and  its  prominent  and  (comparatively)  consistent  histor- 
ical setting ;  the  second  because  of  its  historical  personages 
(Artaxerxes,  etc.).  Both  may  be  dated  before  200  A.D. 
As  both  were  unknown  to  the  Renaissance,  they  will  re- 
ceive no  further  notice  here. 


164  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

tian  have  been  supposed  to  prove  personal  ac- 
quaintance with  Egypt,  has  been  shown  to  be 
inaccurate.  (Naber,  in  Mnemosyne,  N.  S.,  I. 
(1873),  P-  T46  ff->  cited  by  Rohde,  456,  n.  i.) 
What  matter?  The  face  of  the  earth,  built  of 
spaces  that  hold  its  regions  apart,  and  diversified 
by  cities,  islands,  winds,  waves  and  strange  in- 
habitants, is  for  Heliodorus,  as  well  as  for  Achilles 
Tatius,  just  the  board  on  which  the  powers  play 
their  game, — no  more.  Any  space  whatever  will 
do  to  separate  two  lovers,  any  storm  to  throw  out 
of  its  course  the  ship  that  bears  them,  any  city  to 
receive  them.  What  happens  may  have  happened 
almost  anywhere.36 

In  the  absence  of  real  local  color,  both  Helio- 
dorus and  Achilles  Tatius  employ  geographical 
setting  largely  as  a  source  of  instruction  and  en- 
tertainment, by  way  of  the  remarkable  misinfor- 
mation and  of  the  numerous  descriptions  it  plaus- 
ibly affords.  A  glance  at  some  of  the  glosses  in 
Underdowne's  version  of  the  "yEthiopica "  will 
suggest  the  prominence  of  this  instructive  matter. 
"A  pretty  discourse  of  Achilles  countrie  with 
the  arguments  that  the  Aenians  have  to  prove 
that  they  are  of  Achilles  bloud"  (75).  "The 
Calidonian  sea,  is  very  troublesome"  (136)  ;  and 
Calasiris  at  great  length  explains  why.  Comply- 
ing with  the  request  of  his  new  acquaintances  at 

36  The  geographical  background,  like  the  historical,  ap- 
pears, in  the  Romances  we  are  here  concerned  with,  to 
have  declined  from  an  earlier  state  of  much  greater  impor- 
tance. "  The  Marvels  Beyond  Thule  "  of  Antonius  Diogenes 
is  the  very  type  of  Reiseroman.  In  the  "  Babylonica  "  of 
lamblichus,  the  local  color,  Oriental  at  least  in  intention,  is 
sometimes  essential  to  the  story  (Rohde,  378-9). 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  165 

Delphi,  he  gives  various  information  about  Egypt 
— its  religions,  the  construction  of  its  tombs  and 
pyramids,  the  source  of  the  Nile,  and  the  causes 
of  the  flood  (68-9).  "Wherefore  soever  yron 
serveth  in  other  countries,  gold  serveth  in  ^Ethi- 
opia" (234).  "Howe  the  Persian  horsman  is 
armed."  .  .  .  "  How  a  steele  coat  is  made"  (245). 
"  How  the  Trogloditae  weare  their  arrowes  "  viz. 
radiating  from  their  turbans  ;  .  .  .  "Whereof  the 
Trogloditae  make  their  arrowes  " :  viz.  "  from  a 
bone  out  of  the  dragons  backe  .  .  .  they  sharpen 
the  same,  and  make  a  naturall  head  thereof" 
(248).  "  Nylus,  Asasoba,  and  Astabora,  flouds 
of  ^Ethiopia  beside  Meroe  "  (261 ).  "  The  length 
and  breadth  of  the  Hand  wherein  Meroe  is  "... 
"  Wheate  and  other  fruite  of  ^Ethiopia."  .  .  . 
"  The  reedes  of  ^Ethiopia  are  great  belike  "  (262) 
— this  last  a  cautious  observation  to  temper  the 
account  of  Hydaspes'  bamboo  pavilion,  which 
was  "made  of  foure  reedes  .  .  .  so  that  at  everie 
corner  stoode  a  reede  to  stay  it  up  insteede  of  a 
pillar  " : — rather  too  tall  a  story  to  be  swallowed 
without  a  gloss.  That  the  Blemmyes  stabbed  the 
Persian  horses  in  the  belly,  and  then  having  thus 
brought  down  both  horse  and  rider,  proceeded  to 
hamstring  the  latter,  is  advertised  as  "  A  notable 
fact  of  the  Blemmies  "  (247).  Hydaspes'  recep- 
tion of  ambassadors  and  gifts  from  various  peo- 
ples offers  an  unusual  opportunity  for  the  intro- 
duction of  "notable  facts"  (278-9);  and  his 
sojourn  at  Syene  enables  its  people  to  show  him 
a  Kilometer,  and  sundials  which  at  the  solstice 
cast  no  shadow — Syene  being  on  the  tropic — and 


1 66  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

to  discuss  again  the  course  of  the  Nile,  its  pecu- 
liar plants  and  animals,  and  its  functions  of  fer- 
tilizing, of  making  alluvial  land,  and  of  serving 
as  a  calendar  (250-251). 

Achilles  Tatius  likewise  loses  no  opportunity 
to  tell  of  strange  lands  and  strange  beasts: — the 
Hippopotamus  (IV.  ii-iii)  ;  the  Elephant  and  his 
sweet  breath  (IV.  iv-v)  ;  the  Phoenix  and  his 
pious  son  (III.  xxv )  ;  the  Crocodile,  whose  teeth 
extend  back  almost  to  his  belly  (IV.  xix)  ;  a 
Sicilian  spring,  where  fire  and  water  mingle;  a 
musical  river  in  Spain,  played  upon  by  the  wind ; 
a  Libyan  lake  from  which  gold  is  fished  up  by 
means  of  poles  smeared  with  pitch  (II.  xiv). 
Indeed,  so  far  from  losing  an  existent  oppor- 
tunity, he  creates  opportunities  where  they  do  not 
exist.  Not  one  of  the  passages  just  cited  has  the 
slightest  relevancy. 

Longus  is  saved  from  such  geographical  digres- 
sions, just  as  he  is  saved  from  the  domination  of 
Fortune — by  staying  at  home.  And  in  describ- 
ing that  home,  he  exhibits,  far  more  than  either 
Heliodorus  or  Achilles  Tatius,  a  true  artist's  ap- 
preciation of  the  intrinsic  beauty  of  his  setting. 
The  thicket  and  the  grotto  where  Daphnis  and 
Chloe  respectively  were  found  (I.  ii,  iv)  ;  the 
sights,  sounds,  and  occupations  of  summer  (I. 
xxiii),  of  winter  (III.  iii-iv),  and  of  spring  (III. 
xii-xiii)  ;  the  garden  of  Philetas  (II.  iii)  and  the 
garden  of  Lamon  (IV.  ii-iii) — the  latter  with  its 
distant  view  of  meadows  and  grazing  sheep  and 
cattle,  and  of  the  sea  with  ships  sailing  by;  the 
vintage  (II.  i-ii)  and  the  gathering  of  the  fruit 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  167 

(III.  xxx-xxxiv) ; — these  are  some  of  the  fea- 
tures, truly  imagined,  of  that  old  rustic  world  in 
which  Longus's  boy  and  girl  shepherded  their 
flocks.  Certainly,  as  has  been  said,  neither  this 
landscape  nor  this  country  life  is  peculiar  to 
Lesbos ;  but  whether  in  Lesbos  or  in  Sicily,  "  in 
Tempe  or  the  dales  of  Arcady,"  it  breathes  the 
same  Theocritean  charm — a  charm  with  which 
there  is  nothing  at  all  comparable  in  either  of  the 
other  Romances.  Still,  when  Heliodorus  and 
Achilles  Tatius  consent  to  forego  their  puerile 
delight  in  "  hearing  or  telling  some  new  thing," 
and  soberly  endeavor  to  make  a  real  background 
for  real  events,  they  are  not  without  success. 
Heliodorus's  account  of  "  The  habitation  and 
place,  where  the  thieves  of  Egypt  aboade,  .  .  . 
with  their  common  wealth,  and  trade  of  life " 
(U  14)  ;  the  corresponding  and  partly  imitative 
passage  in  "  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  "  describing 
the  Nile  and  its  floods  and  the  buccaneers'  islands 
(IV.  xi,  xii)  ;  Heliodorus's  grandiose  account  of 
the  ceremonies  at  Delphi  (III.  i-v)  ;  Achilles 
Tatius's  lively  description  of  the  gay  traffic  on 
the  Nile  (IV.  xviii)  and  of  the  city  of  Alexan- 
dria (V.  i-ii)  ;  do  succeed  in  imparting  to  the 
reader  some  sense  that  the  action  of  the  story  is 
taking  place  in  this  world.  But  such  passages 
are  rare.  For  the  most  part,  the  geographical 
setting  of  these  two  Romances  is  made  to  serve 
the  sophist's  turn  for  pseudo-science  and  improv- 
ing misinformation,  for  marvel  and  paradox,  and 
for  set  description. 
An  excess  of  description,  in  particular,  is  one 


1 68  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

of  the  most  striking  faults  of  the  whole  genre. 
Here  again,  Longus  offends  least,  kept  safe  by 
that  artistic  feeling  which  among  these  rhetori- 
cians fell  to  his  share  alone.  Yet  even  he  over- 
describes  ; — inserting,  for  example,  into  his  de- 
scription of  the  garden  of  Lamon  an  irrelevant 
list  of  the  paintings  or  sculptures  in  the  temple 
of  Bacchus  that  stood  there.  We  may  well,  how- 
ever, be  "  astonished  at  his  moderation "  when 
we  remember  that  the  whole  of  "  Daphnis  and 
Chloe" — the  very  story — purports  to  be  an  ex- 
planation of  a  series  of  pictures.37  Pictures  he 
does  give  us,  in  plenty,  not  confining  these  to 
background,  either  (ante,  pp.  166-167),  but  en- 
visaging the  incidents  themselves  pictorially: 
Chloe  girdled  with  a  fawn-skin  and  crowned  with 
pine  meets  Daphnis  and  offers  him  a  drink  of 
milk  (I.  xxxiv)  ;  Daphnis  swims  ashore  sup- 
ported on  the  horns  of  two  cows  (I.  xxx)  ; 
Daphnis  as  the  strangers  from  town  first  behold 
him  (IV.  xiv)  or  as  Gnatho  describes  him  (IV. 
xvii)  ;  and  many  others.  Nor  does  he  confine  his 
art  to  visual  impressions  alone ;  he  gives  a  wide 
range  of  lovely  sensuous  images — the  sounds  and 
motions  and  odors  of  his  idyllic  world,  as  well  as 
its  sights.  There  is  the  sailors'  song  and  chorus 
and  its  echo,  coming  broken  and  diversified  by  the 
varying  conformation  of  land  and  water  (III. 
xxi)  ;  Philetas's  piping  (II.  xxxv)  ;  Dryas's  pan- 
tomimic dance  of  the  vintage  (II.  xxxvi)  and 

3T  This  conception  of  the  story  as  a  succession  of  Idylls 
(eJ3i/X\ia — little  pictures)  is  accepted  by  M.  Raphael  Collin, 
who  has  re-translated  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe  "  into  the  lan- 
guage of  pictorial  art. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  169 

Daphnis  and  Chloe's  dramatic  dance  of  Pan  and 
Syrinx  (II.  xxxvii)  ;  the  piping  of  Daphnis  and 
Chloe,  the  nightingale's  responsive  song,  and  the 
bleating  of  the  flocks — a  chorus  of  springtime 
(III.  xii-xiii)  ;  and  the  rich  autumnal  garner  of 
pears  and  apples,  with  all  the  color  and  fragrance 
of  the  fruit — especially  that  golden  apple  for 
which  Daphnis  climbed  to  the  topmost  bough 
(III.  xxxiii-xxxiv).  But  with  all  this  abund- 
ance of  pictures  and  golden  profusion  of  sensu- 
ous imagery,  Longus  has  spared  us  the  tedious 
descriptions  which  his  Proem  may  well  have  led 
us  to  expect.  He  stops  well  within  the  bounds 
of  that  older  Greek  moderation  which  the  other 
Romancers  seem  to  have  unlearned.  His  pas- 
toral theme  and  his  sense  of  measure,  together 
with  his  instinct  for  beauty,  keep  him  from  ex- 
cess, and,  despite  his  elaborate  style,  let  him  rest 
in  an  effect  of  simplicity.  This  richness  in  sim- 
plicity is  what  constitutes  his  peculiar  charm. 

In  Achilles  Tatius  the  excess  of  description, 
like  the  excess  of  "  psychologizing "  (ante,  p. 
145),  is  a  trick  of  the  rhetorician's  trade.  The 
descriptive  show-pieces  of  which  he  is  so  fond 
were,  like  the  ?}#o7ro(eiat,  a  regular  exercise  of 
the  schools,  known  as  e/c<£pa<m,  "  a  set  descrip- 
tion intended  to  bring  a  person,  place,  picture, 
etc.,  vividly  before  the  mind's  eye.  It  is  found 
largely  in  the  Epideictic  rhetoricians,  and  still 
more  largely  in  the  Greek  Romances."38  These 
€K<f>pd<reis,  many  of  which  have  come  down  to  us 

88  Saintsbury,  "  Hist,  of  Crit.,"  Vol.  I,  Index.  "  Epideic- 
tic— the  third  kind  of  oratory — the  rhetoric  of  display " 
(ibid.). 


17°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

in  the  works  of  Theocritus,  Moschus,  Ovid, 
Aelian,  Lucian,  Callistratus,  Philostratus  and 
others,  differ  fundamentally  both  in  purpose  and 
in  method  from  the  descriptions  in  Greek  class- 
ical poetry.  Classical  descriptions — the  Shield  of 
Achilles  (II.  XVIII.  fin.),  the  Palace  and  the 
Garden  of  Alcinous  (Od.  VII),  the  sleeping 
eagle  of  Zeus,  and  Mount  Aetna  in  eruption 
(Pindar,  Pyth.,  I) — are  made  "with  the  eye  on 
the  object,"  and  with  the  purpose  of  giving 
material  or  background  for  action,  or  brilliant 
illumination  to  a  stage  in  the  lyrical  evolution  of 
an  idea.  The  sophistical  descriptions  of  Hellen- 
istic and  post-Hellenistic  times,  the  eK^pdaeif, 
are  made  for  their  own  sake,  for  display;  and 
with  the  eye  on  a  picture™  of  the  object.  It  has 
often  been  pointed  out  that  Alexandrian  poetry, 
and  post-Alexandrian  poetry  both  Greek  and 
Roman,  found  subjects  and  models  largely  in 
Alexandrian  painting.40  This  habit  of  pictorial 
description,  of  conceiving  a  literary  theme  pic- 
torially,  produces  about  the  same  literary  result 
whether  in  any  given  case  the  picture  described 

89 "  It  is  indeed,  usual  among  the  Latin  poets  (who  had 
more  art  and  reflection  than  the  Grecian)  to  take  hold  of 
all  opportunities  to  describe  the  picture  of  any  place  or 
action,  which  they  generally  do  better  than  they  could  the 
place  or  action  itself." 

Addison's  "  Notes  "  on  his  translations  from  Ovid.  Works, 
ed.  Tickell,  1804,  Vol.  VI,  pp.  177-8. 

40  Mahaffy,  "Greek  Life  and  Thought,"  pp.  117  ff,  218  ff, 
414  ff;  Ste.  Beuve,  "  Etude  sur  Virgile,"  p.  278;  A.  Lang, 
"  Theocritus  and  his  Age  "  (Introduction  to  his  Transla- 
tion of  Theocritus,  Bion  and  Moschus),  pp.  xxxvii  ff;  T. 
R.  Glover,  "  Studies  in  Virgil,"  pp.  53-4 ;  (who  cites)  Bois- 
sier,  "  Promenades  Archeologiques  : — Rome  et  Pompei,"  pp. 
342-387. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  171 

by  the  rhetorician  be  an  existing  painting  or  only 
an  imaginary  painting  visualized, — a  scene  re- 
composed  in  pictorial  terms.41  Thus,  in  describ- 
ing the  "real"  garden  of  Clitophon's  house  (I. 
xv),  Achilles  Tatius  largely  repeats  the  same 
details — crystal  fountain,  cloistered  wall,  foliage 
closely  interwoven,  with  interstices  through 
which  the  sunlight  filters  upon  the  ground  in 
flickering  spots  of  light  and  shade — the  same 
details  that  he  has  used  to  describe  the  meadow 
in  the  painting  which  opens  his  story  (I.  i).  The 
pictorial  habit  of  mind  reinforces,  and  is  rein- 
forced by,  the  desire  for  rhetorical  display. 

The  abduction  of  Europa,  in  particular, — the 
painting  of  which  has  just  been  mentioned — was 
one  of  the  stock  possessions  alike  of  painter, 

41  So  that,  e.  g.,  the  question  whether  the  picture-gallery 
which  Philostratus's  Eimves  (Imagines)  profess  to  describe 
was  genuine  or  not,  concerns  not  so  much  the  student  of 
literature  as  the  student  of  painting.  In  fact,  these  and 
similar  literary  descriptions  are  well  known  to  have  been 
taken,  in  their  turn,  as  models  for  illustration  by  the  paint- 
ers of  the  Renaissance.  See  Ch.  Bigot,  "  Raphael  and  the 
Villa  Farnesina,"  pp.  69  ff;  Franz  Wickhoff,  "  Veneziani- 
sche  Bilder,"  in  Jahrb.  d.  Kgl.  preussischen  Kuntsversamm- 
lungen,  Vol.  23,  pp.  118-123  ;  Richard  Forster,  "  Philostrat's 
Gemalde  in  der  Renaissance,"  ibid.,  Vol.  25,  pp.  15-48; 
"  Lucian  in  der  Renaissance"  (Kiel,  1886).  For  the  his- 
tory of  Greek  painting,  the  literary  documents,  including 
numerous  ticfipda-eis,  are  collected  in  Overbeck,  "  Die  an- 
tiken  Schriftquellen  zur  Geschichte  der  bildenden  Kiinste 
bei  den  Griechen  "  (Leipzig,  1868).  As  far  as  I  am  aware, 
there  is  no  comprehensive  work  on  the  history  of.  the  rela- 
tions between  literature  and  the  graphic  arts — a  most  fas- 
cinating subject.  An  important  chapter  is  contributed  to 
the  history  of  the  criticism  of  these  relations,  by  Professor 
W.  G.  Howard,  in  the  Publications  of  the  Mod.  Lang.  Ass'n 
of  America,  Vol.  XXIV,  No.  i  (March,  1909),  pp.  40-123, 
under  the  title  "  Ut  Pictura  Poesis." 


172  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

sculptor,  engraver,  poet  and  rhetorician.  It 
figured  largely  in  statues,  in  vase-painting,  and 
in  the  wall-painting  of  Alexandria  and  the  cities 
of  southern  Italy;42  it  was  carved  upon  gems;43 
and,  before  Achilles  Tatius,  it  had  received 
literary  handling  in  Moschus  (Idyll  II.),  Horace 
(Od.  III.  27),  Ovid  (Met.  II.  836-875;"  Fasti 
V.  605  ff. ;  Amores  I.  iii,  23  ff.),  Lucian  (Dialogi 
Marini,  XV.),  Anacreon  (Teubner,  No.  54)  and 
Nonnus  (Dionysiaca,  I.  46  ff.),  and  had  been 
travestied  in  the  Batrachomyomachia  (65-81  ).45 
Everywhere  the  treatment  revolves  in  a  closed 
round  of  images:  Europa  and  her  companions 

42  Helbig,  "  Untersuchungen,"  pp.  224  if;   "  Campanische 
Wandgemalde,"  Nos.   122-130.     Otto  Jahn,  "Die  Entfiihr- 
ung    der    Europa    auf    antiken    Kunstwerken,"    in    Wiener 
Akademie,   hist-phil.    Classe,   Denkschriften,   v.    19    (whole 
volume)  ;  "  Uber  ein  Marmorrelief  der  Glyptothek  in  Miin- 
chen,"  in  Berichte  der  sachsischen  Gesellschaft  der  Wissen- 
schaften,  Philol-Hist.   Classe,   Vol.   6    (1854),   PP-    160-194 
(esp.  pp.  185-6). 

43  Furtwangler,    "  Die    Antiken    Gemmen,"    PI.    VI,    63, 
XXXVII,   5,  etc.  Reinach,   "  Pierres   Gravees,"   PL  28,   29, 
76,  79.     "La  Galerie  de  Florence"   (Paris,   1819;  no  pag- 
ing, or  numbering  of  plates),  Vols.  I  and  IV. 

41 A  propos  of  which,  Addison  makes  the  remark  quoted 
ante,  p.  170  n.  i,  and  in  the  same  connection  praises  Achilles 
Tatius's  Europa  as  surpassing  Ovid's. 

45  From  the  Renaissance  on,  its  popularity  is  undimin- 
ished.  Colonna,  "  Hypnerotomachia  Poliphili,"  I.  xiv  (with 
beautiful  wood-cuts);  Poliziano,  "  Giostra,"  I,  st.  105-6; 
Muzio,  "  La  Europa,"  in  "  Rime,"  Vinegia  MDLI,  ff.  146- 
151;  Maffei,  Canzonetta  "  Quel  tuo  caro  soggiorno,"  in 
Parnaso  Italiano,  Vol.  52,  p.  19;  Marino,  "  Adone,"  VI,  st. 
59  sqq. ;  Spenser,  "  Muiopotmos  "  ;  Greene,  "  Morando  " 
(see  post,  pp.  399-400)  ;  Tennyson,  "  Palace  of  Art."  It 
forms  the  subject  of  paintings  by  Veronese,  Albani,  Frans 
Wouters,  Titian,  Claude  Lorraine,  and  Guido  Reni.  The 
lists  given  in  the  text  and  in  this  note  do  not  profess  to 
be  exhaustive. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  1 73 

gather  flowers;  the  gentle  bull  appears,  and  is 
described  at  length ;  she  mounts  upon  his  back 
and  is  carried  out  to  sea;  in  terror  she  holds  his 
horn  with  one  hand,  while  the  other  grasps  his 
back  or  her  garment ;  her  garment  flutters  out 
sail-like  in  the  breeze;  she  draws  up  her  feet  to 
keep  them  dry;  her  anxious  companions  follow 
to  the  water's  edge,  and  wade  hesitatingly  in; 
sea-gods  and  sea-monsters  gambol  about;  the 
bull  "  roars  gently,"  answering  Triton's  horn ; 
Eros  leads  the  procession,  sometimes  guiding  the 
bull  with  reins,  or  with  garlands  of  flowers. 
Such  is  the  assortment  from  which  now  this 
group  of  images,  now  that,  is  chosen.  Achilles 
Tatius  employs  nearly  all.  And  of  all  these  de- 
tails, it  should  be  remembered,  only  one  has  the 
slightest  relevancy  to  his  romance: — the  power 
of  Eros.  Even  this  does  no  more  than  furnish 
a  pretext  for  the  conversation  between  Clitophon 
and  the  author.  All  the  rest  is  for  show.  In 
the  same  way,  of  all  the  details  in  the  word- 
painting  of  the  garden  (I.  xv),  only  one  is  even 
tangent  to  the  story.  The  peacock,  spreading  his 
tail  to  woo  his  mate,  suggests  to  Clitophon  a 
text  for  the  discourse  on  love's  universal  do- 
minion whereby  he  begins  his  courtship  of  Leu- 
cippe.  The  garden  nowhere  else  touches  the 
personages  or  their  action ;  it  is  nowise  employed 
as  a  background ;  like  the  picture  of  Europa,  it  is 
a  word-painting,  and  a  word-painting  only.48 

48  Considering  the  fondness  of  the  Greek  Romancers  for 
representing  all  things  to  the  eye,  one  is  surprised  to  find 
them  making  such  small  use  of  Emblems.  There  are  none 
in  Longus.  In  Heliodorus  I  recall  but  one ;  '*  What  man," 


174  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

The  painting  of  Philomela  (V.  iii)  though  it 
has  some  tinge  of  relevancy  in  so  far  as  it  por- 
tends disaster  from  the  excursion  to  Pharos,  is 
none  the  less  irrelevant  in  the  fulness  of  its 
detail.  The  exact  position  and  expression  of  the 
figures  simply  does  not  matter;  it  is  only  the 
subject,  which,  as  a  portent  of  Leucippe's  abduc- 
tion, counts  at  all ;  but  Achilles  Tatius  as  usual 
enjoys  playing  his  tour  de  force,  dwells  with 
gusto  upon  every  particular  of  the  painting — and 
then  proceeds  to  render  the  whole  description 
superfluous  by  telling,  in  addition,  the  story  of 
Philomela.  One  or  the  other — either  the  story, 
or  anything  more  than  a  bare  mention  of  the 
subject  of  the  picture — is  surplusage. 

Where  Achilles  Tatius  abandons  the  methods 
of  word-painting,  broadens  his  range  of  sensuous 
appeal,  employs  images  of  sound  and  movement, 

says  Theagenes,  speaking  of  the  race  he  is  about  to  run, 
at  the  goal  of  which  stands  Chariclea,  "  will  look  on 
Cariclia,  and  approch  to  her  so  hastily  that  he  can  get 
before  me?  to  whom  can  her  eies  give  like  wings,  as  to 
me,  and  cause  him  flic  so  faste  ?  Know  you  not,  that 
painters  make  love  with  two  zvinges,  declaring,  as  by  a 
Riddle,  the  nimbleness  of  those  that  be  in  love?"  (U  100, 
IV.  ii).  Underdowne  duly  glosses  :  "  Why  Cupide  is  painted 
with  two  wings."  Achilles  Tatius  has  a  fair  sprinkling  of 
Emblems.  In  Clitophon's  dream  (I.  iii)  the  woman  of 
dread  aspect,  holding  a  sickle  in  one  hand  and  a  sword 
in  the  other,  is  probably  emblematic  of  Fate  or  of  For- 
tune. At  II.  iv,  Cupid's  warlike  equipment  with  bow  and 
quiver,  arrows  and  fire,  is  said  to  symbolize  a  lover's  cour- 
age. Melitta's  plea  (V.  xvi)  marshals  numerous  nautical 
emblems  of  marriage.  The  Byzantine  romancers,  having 
had  the  benefit  of  mediaeval  allegory,  are  richer  in  Em- 
blems. Eustathius,  e.  g.,  presents  emblematic  paintings  of 
the  four  cardinal  virtues — Justice,  Temperance,  Prudence, 
and  Valor  (II.  i-vi),  and  of  the  twelve  months  (IV.  iv- 
xviii)  at  enormous  length  and  irrelevancy. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  I  75 

and  suggests  rather  than  analyzes  emotion,  he  is 
more  successful,  as  well  as  more  relevant, — for 
instance,  in  his  description  of  the  ship  getting 
under  way  (II.  xxxii),  or  of  Leucippe's  modest 
dress  and  bearing  when  she  is  about  to  take 
the  ordeal  (VIII.  xiii),  and  in  the  genre-pictures 
already  noted  (ante,  p.  161).  Forming  part  of 
the  narrative,  and  partaking  of  its  movement, 
these  gain  at  once  artistic  sanction  and  artistic 
vitality.  But  they  are  the  accidental  exceptions. 
Most  of  the  descriptions  in  "  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe  "  are  of  the  kind  already  characterized, 
— without  structural  justification  on  the  one 
hand,  and  confined  on  the  other  hand  to  a  narrow 
range  of  stationary  visual  images  foredoomed  to 
tedious  ineffectiveness.  Examples  abound.  At 
I.  iv  Leucippe  is  described,  and  so  vaguely  that 
no  reader  can  form  the  ghost  of  an  idea  how 
she  looked ;  at  I.  xix  her  beauty  is  compared  with 
that  of  the  peacock  and  of  the  garden,  just  as 
ineffectively.  At  II.  iii  and  xi  are  descriptions — 
ingenious  in  themselves  but  wholly  digressive  and 
irrelevant — of  a  crystal  wine-cup,  a  necklace,  and 
a  purple  robe, — a  propos  whereof  there  are 
further  digressions,  upon  the  discovery  of  wine 
and  of  the  uses  of  the  purple  fish.  The  mag- 
nificent sacrifice  conducted  by  Callisthenes  on 
behalf  of  the  Byzantines  (II.  xv) — unlike  the 
corresponding  ceremonial  in  Heliodorus  (III. 
i-v;  see  post,  pp.  184-186) — does  not  combine 
with  the  attitude  or  action  of  the  personages  to 
form  a  picture, — does  not,  in  a  word,  serve  as 
background.  The  statue  of  Zeus  Casius  at  Pelu- 


176  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

sium,  and  the  paintings  in  his  temple — Andro- 
meda rescued  by  Perseus,  Prometheus  rescued  by 
Hercules  (III.  vi-viii) — are  simply  dragged  in, 
without  even  the  thin  pretext  that  they  suggest 
conversation.  Leucippe's  tears,  and  the  mode 
in  which  they  intensify  the  beauty  of  her  eyes 
(VI.  vii),  afford  a  passage  which  "fairly  bursts 
with  the  pride  of  word-pictures."47  To  conclude 
as  we  began,  Achilles  Tatius  over-elaborates  the 
outwardness  of  things  exactly  as  we  found  him 
over-elaborating  their  inwardness;  his  pictures 
"  hors  texte,"  like  his  psychology,  are  the  trick  of 
a  rhetorician,  not  the  work  of  an  artist.  No 
Lessing  has  arisen  to  tell  him  where  lies  the 
strength  and  where  the  weakness,  respectively,  of 
language  and  of  visual  form ;  and  there  is  present 
in  him  no  fine  native  instinct  to  keep  him,  like 
Longus,  on  the  right  side  of  the  boundary. 

Heliodorus  is  less  the  rhetorician  and  more 
the  observer.  He  possesses  a  genuine  talent  for 
seizing  the  picturesque  aspect  of  events,  and  for 
describing  their  progress  in  the  form  of  great 
spectacles, — spectacles  which,  involved  as  they 
are  in  the  story,  are  structurally  justified.48  This 
fondness  for  the  spectacular,  while  it  tends  some- 
what to  narrow  Heliodorus's  sensuous  range  to 
images  chiefly  of  sight  and  movement,49  at  the 

"  Warren,  p.  66. 

48  These  genuine  sensuous  descriptions,  which  are  almost 
always   relevant,   should  be   distinguished   from   his   irrele- 
vant  geography,   zoology,   literary   criticism,   Homeric   dis- 
cussions, and  other  non-sensuous  digressive  matter. 

49  Longus  employs  the  whole  gamut, — form,  color,  move- 
ment, sound,  smell,  touch,  taste,  etc. ;  Achilles  Tatius  rather 
neglects   smell,   touch   and  taste ;   Heliodorus  is   narrower 
than  either. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  1  77 


same  time  saves  him  from  mere  eicfypacrft.  In  all 
its  great  length,  the  ".^Lthiopica  "  contains  only 
one  set  and  irrelevant  description  —  that  of  the 
carved  amethyst  (V.  xiii,  xiv)  given  by  Calasiris 
to  Nausicles  as  a  ransom  for  Chariclea  ;  and  it 
contains  no  description  at  all  of  painting  or  sculp- 
ture. Even  where  such  a  description  would  have 
been  wholly  relevant,  perhaps  desirable,  —  as  in 
the  case  of  the  painting  of  Andromeda  which 
made  so  much  trouble,  —  Heliodorus  seems  not  to 
be  so  much  as  tempted.  He  "  doesn't  even  hesi- 
tate"; he  goes  right  on  with  the  story  (IV.  viii; 
X.  xiv-xv). 

His  strong  inclination  to  notice  the  visual  side 
of  things  gets  satisfaction  in  other  ways.  Not 
content,  for  instance,  with  telling  how  a  thing 
looks,  he  tells  also  how  the  people  who  look  at  it 
look,  how  they  open  and  close  their  eyes,  shift 
their  gaze  from  one  point  to  another,  and  are 
affected  in  appearance  by  what  they  see.  He  is 
fond  of  describing  persons,  objects  and  actions 
by  means  of  the  impression  they  make  upon  some 
observer,  whose  changes  of  countenance  he  de- 
scribes in  turn.  This  habit  of  treating  the  world 
of  sight  by  way  of  its  effect  upon  people  is 
closely  parallel  to  the  method  already  noted 
(ante,  pp.  144-145)  of  treating  the  world  of 
thought  and  feeling  by  way  of  TraOos  ;  —  the  effort 
in  each  case  being  to  represent  not  the  thing 
itself,  but  that  which  the  thing  makes  somebody 
feel.  Heliodorus's  pathetic  optics  —  if  I  may  so 
name  the  mannerism  —  strikes  the  reader  at  the 
very  beginning  of  the  "^Ethiopica,"  dominating 

13 


178  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

as  it  does  the  whole  of  the  first  two  chapters. 
The  brigands  look  at  the  sea,  and  then  turn  to 
scrutinize  the  shore ;  there  they  behold  the  pirate 
ship  and  the  dead  bodies  of  the  pirates,  slain 
feasting ;  they  are  astonished  and  stupefied  at  the 
incomprehensible  sight.  Soon  they  discern 
Chariclea  tending  the  wounds  of  Theagenes ;  but 
her  eyes,  cast  upon  him,  see  them  not;  while 
his  eyelids,  drooping  in  his  exhaustion,  still  per- 
mit his  gaze  to  be  drawn  to  her.  She  rises,  her 
quiver  of  arrows  clanging,  her  hair  unbound,  her 
robe  shining  in  the  sun;  and  the  brigands  are 
terrified  at  this  apparition  of  a  supposed  goddess. 
Now  she  embraces  Theagenes,  and  this  action, 
observed  by  the  brigands,  proves  her  mortal; 
they  approach ;  their  shadow  falls  within  her  field 
to  vision;  she  looks  up, — and  so  on.  Verbs  of 
seeing,  verbs  indicating  the  effects  of  sight,  are 
surprisingly  numerous.  The  effect  occurs  again 
and  again.  These  brigands,  like  the  band  under 
Thyamis,  and  like  Thyamis  himself,  are  awe- 
struck by  the  beauty  of  Theagenes  and  Chariclea 
(I.  iii,  iv)  ;  so  are  the  troops  of  Mithranes  (V. 
vii).  When  Chariclea,  unaware  of  the  pres- 
ence of  Calasiris  and  Cnemon  at  the  house  of 
Nausicles,  is  brought  before  them,  "  she  looked 
up  a  little,  and  contrary  to  her  expectation  she 
saw  and  was  scene,  so  that  they  all  three  began 
to  cry  out,  and  howle  suddenly,  as  if  there  had 
beene  a  token  geeven  them  when  they  should 
have  begun"  (U  132).  The  sentiment  revealed 
in  Theagenes  and  Chariclea's  changes  of  coun- 
tenance as  they  both  fall  in  love  at  the  moment 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  1 79 

of  his  receiving  the  torch  from  her  (III.  v)  ; 
Theagenes's  unsuccessful  efforts  to  conceal  his 
emotion  from  his  guests  (III.  x,  xi)  ;  Chariclea's 
involuntary  bodily  movements  and  changes  of 
countenance  as  she  follows  with  her  eye  the  race 
between  Theagenes  and  Ormenus  (IV.  iii) — 
these  and  much  more  of  the  same  sort50  are 
on  the  border  between  description  and  character- 
ization ;  they  belong  as  much  to  the  one  world 
as  to  the  other, — and  in  both  are  conveyed 
through  TraOos. 

One  "  effect,"  at  once  pathetic  and  spectacular, 
occurs  so  often  in  the  "yEthiopica"  that  it  seems 
to  deserve  special  notice.  I  mean  what  may  be 
called  "hieratic  epiphany."  The  disguised  and 
wandering  sun-god  in  old  myths  is  from  time  to 
time  made  manifest,  confounding  his  enemies  and 
rejoicing  his  worshippers ;  and  finally,  his  trials 
done,  throws  off  his  disguise  for  good  and  all, 
and  reveals  himself  in  splendor.  So  it  is  with 
the  wandering  hero,  who,  returning  in  beggar's 
weeds  upon  Apollo's  holy  day — the  day  of  the 
New  Moon  after  the  winter  solstice — stands 
forth  from  his  rags,  and  smites  his  enemies  with 
arrows  inevitable  as  the  arrows  of  the  Far-Darter 
himself.51  And  so  it  is,  too,  with  the  wandering 
priest  and  priestess  of  the  sun,  likewise  disguised 
as  beggars  and  pilgrims,  who  yet  from  time  to 

80 "A  description  of  Theagenes"  (VII.  x)  ;  the  sight  of 
Theagenes  inflames  Arsace  (VII.  iv,  vi)  ;  Theagenes'  grace 
in  waiting  at  table  further  inflames  Arsace  (VII.  xxvii)  ; 
Meroebus  blushes  through  his  black  skin  (X.  xxiv)  ;  Per- 
sina  is  moved  to  compassion  at  the  sight  of  her  daughter's 
youth,  beauty,  and  fortitude  (X.  vii),  etc. 

81  Schwartz,  "  Fiinf  Vortrage,"  pp.  17-19. 


l8o  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

time  show  themselves  for  what  they  are,  and 
strike  the  beholders  with  admiration,  awe,  pity  or 
fear.  No  less  than  six  times  does  Heliodorus 
make  use  of  this  hieratic  epiphany.  Chariclea 
at  the  Delphic  games  in  honor  of  Pyrrhus  shines 
in  full  priestly  array,  with  sacred  robe  and  laurel 
crown,  quiver  and  torch  (III.  iv)  ;  again  with 
these  attributes  of  Artemis  she  appears  to  the 
brigands,  a  very  goddess  (I.  ii)  ;  ceremonially 
robed  for  the  bridal,  she  captivates  Pelorus  (V. 
xxxi)  ;  condemned  to  the  stake  by  Arsace,  she 
leaps  lightly  into  the  flames,  which,  retreating 
from  her  on  all  sides,  only  illuminate  and  enhance 
her  radiant  beauty, — so  that  the  people  cry  out  at 
the  miracle,  and  are  moved  to  rescue  her  (VIII. 
ix).  Her  ordeal  upon  the  fiery  altar  (X.  ix)  is 
still  more  pathetic,  and  hieratic,  and  spectacular. 
"  Shee  tarried  not,  till  they  commanded  her  .  .  , 
but  put  uppon  her  the  holy  garment,  that  she 
brought  from  Delphi,  .  .  .  wrought  with  golde, 
and  other  costly  juelles,52  and  when  shee  had  cast 
her  haire  abroade,  like  one  taken  with  divine 
furie,  ranne  and  leapt  into  the  fire,  and  stood 
there  a  great  while  without  harme,  and  her 
beauty  then  appeared  a  great  deal  more,  so  that 
every  man  looked  upon  her,  and  by  reason  of  her 
stoale  thought  her  more  like  a  Goddesse,  than  a 
mortal  woman.  Thereat  was  every  man  amazed, 
and  muttered  sore.  .  .  .  But  Persina  above  all 
other  was  most  sorrow  full  ..."  (11265).  The 
scene  containing  the  sixth  instance,  in  which  not 
only  Chariclea,  but  Calasiris  also,  is  revealed,  is 

M  A    mistranslation.     The   Greek    means   "  wrought   with 
gold  and  with  rays  of  scarlet." 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  iSl 

so  notable  in  other  respects  as  well,  that  I  reserve 
it  for  fuller  discussion.53 

It  has  been  remarked  (ante,  pp.  176-177)  that 
in  Heliodorus  the  spectacular  is  relevant.  The 
description  is  part  of  the  story,  the  ornament  is 
structural,  the  plot  and  the  setting  belong  to  each 
other.  That  which  moves  the  plot,  then, — Provi- 
dence or  the  sudden  stroke  of  Fortune — is  also 
the  producer  of  the  spectacles,  the  xop^os,  as  it 
were.  In  fact,  this  conception  of  the  gods  and 
fortune  as  makers  of  spectacles,  as  playwrights, 
in  a  word,  does  vitally  affect  the  "yEthiopica." 
For  Heliodorus,  all  the  world's  a  stage,  and  the 
events  in  which  his  men  and  women  play  their 
parts  constitute  a  drama,  with  its  technical  ap- 
paratus of  prologue  and  epilogue,  recognition  and 
climax,  main  plot  and  episodes,  "  love-interest," 
"  machines  "  and  scenery ; — a  drama  not  lacking 
spectators,  either;  for,  as  has  been  seen,  many 
of  the  scenes  are  set  forth  "  pathetically,"  by  way 
of  their  effect  upon  witnesses.  Of  this  theatrical 
envisagement  of  situation,  and  of  this  employ- 
ment of  theatrical  terminology,  a  few  examples 
must  suffice.54  Theagenes  advising  surrender  to 
Mithranes's  troops,  exclaims :  "  Why  do  we  not 
cut  short  the  tragic  poem  of  this  divinity  that 
persecutes  us?  ...  lest,  by  planning  an  intoler- 
able end  of  our  play,  he  force  us  to  suicide  "  (V. 
vi).  At  Cnemon's  wedding,  Chariclea  laments: 

"Post,  p.  187  ff. 

M  The  passages  are  collected,  and  discussed  from  the 
point  of  view  of  linguistics  and  archaeology,  by  J.  W.  H. 
Walden,  "  Stage  Terms  in  Heliodorus's  Jlthiopica  "  (Har- 
vard Studies  in  Classical  Philology,  1894,  Vol.  5,  pp.  1-43). 


182  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

"Ye  (gods)  have  drawn  out  our  drama  without 
end, — beyond  all  other  dramas"  (VI.  viii).  The 
sudden  capture  of  Theagenes  and  Chariclea  by 
the  Ethiopians  is  spoken  of  by  Heliodorus  as 
"  the  prologue  and  first  scene  of  a  play,  as  it 
were"  (waTrep  ev  Spdfj,ari  7rpoava<p(bvi]cri<>  Kai 
TrpoeurdSiov,  IX.  xvii).  The  unexpected  meeting 
and  recognition  of  Chariclea,  Calasiris  and  Cne- 
mon  is  wondered  at  by  Nausicles  as  a  tcaddirep 
eVi  aicrjvfis  avayvw pianos,  (V.  xi).  Cnemon  re- 
calls Calasiris  to  the  point  by  the  impatient  re- 
mark, "  You  have  introduced  an  episode  foreign 
to  your  main  action  "  ('E,7rei<r68iov  Srj  TOVTO  ov8ev 
7T/309  rbv  Aidvvcrov  eTreiovcu/cA-^cra?,  II.  xxiv).  The 
surprising  presence  of  Thisbe's  body  in  Egypt, 
far  from  Athens,  where  she  was  supposed  to  be 
(II.  viii),  and  the  surprising  appearance  of 
Chariclea  before  Hydaspes  with  the  claim  to  be 
his  daughter  (X.  xii),  are  recognized  as  coups 
de  theatre:  they  are  said  to  come  about  "as  if 
by  the  machinery  of  the  stage "  (icaddTrep  IK 
(bcnrep  €7rl  GK.r\vrfi  •  •  •  KOL  olov  lie  /J.TJ- 
ava<$>aivov<ra) .  Scenic  envisagement  of 
the  background  appears  in  Cnemon's  complaint 
that  Calasiris  is  omitting  the  details  of  the  pomp 
at  Delphi :  "  You  have  but  opened  the  theatre, 
and  straight  shut  it  up  againe  "  (U  79;  III.  i). 
The  denouement  is  conceived  most  theatrically, 
if  not  dramatically.  The  spectators  of  the  final 
scene,  says  Heliodorus,  though  some  were  too 
far  away  to  witness  all  its  details,  nevertheless 
rejoiced ;  some  divine  impulse  perchance  enabling 
them  to  understand  its  purport, — the  same  divine 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE    FICTION  183 

impulse    which    had    composed    the   play    itself 

77  (rvpTravra  raur'  ecrtcr)- 


X.  xxxviii).  The  gods,  likewise,  have  declared 
Chariclea  to  be  Hydaspes'  daughter,  have  brought 
her  foster-father  Charicles  thither  from  Greece, 
as  if  ex  machina,  and  have  plainly  designated 
the  strange  youth  to  be  her  bridegroom:  such  is 
the  consummation  of  their  favors,  and  the  finale 
of  the  drama,  (01  deol  •  •  •  Trjv  TravoX^iov  Xa/9t- 
icXeiav  •  •  •  (rot  dvyar^pa  ai>aSei£ai/re9,  Kal  rbv 
ravTr)<;  rpo(f>€a  KadaTrep  €K  fjitj^avf]^  IK  pecrr)?  rr?9 
'E\\a8o<?  evravd"1  avair^-fyavTes  •  •  •  vvv  T^V 
tcop(t)vi8a  TWV  ayadwv  Kal  &<nrep  XafAtrdSiov 
Spd/jLaros  TOP  vvfjufriov  T^?  /co/3?;9  rovrovl  rbv  %4vov 
veavtav  ava^vavre^,  X.  xxxix.)  With  a  single 
exception,  soon  to  be  noticed,  this  scene  exhibits 
more  strikingly  than  any  other  Heliodorus's  con- 
ception of  his  Romance  as  a  series  of  theatrical 
spectacles  arranged  by  superhuman  agency.85 

M  In  Achilles  Tatius  this  conception  is  much  less  promi- 
nent, is  applied  rather  to  incidents  than  to  the  action  as  a 
whole,  and,  as  might  have  been  expected,  is  transferred 
from  the  gods  to  fortune.  $p\ero  roO  c,  d,..aTos  ij  rtxy  (I.  iii). 


dpai/jM  Kaivttv  (VI.  iii).  Skilled  courtship  is  likened  to  play- 
acting (I.  x)  ;  so  is  the  plausible  story  Melitta  tells  her 
husband  (VI.  x)  ;  Leucippe  considers  herself  as  acting  a 
part  under  her  pseudonym  "  Lacaena  "  (VI.  xvi)  ;  Ther- 
sander's  advocate  slurs  the  oration  of  the  priest  as  a  piece 
of  histrionics.  On  the  other  hand,  it  has  been  observed 
(ante,  pp.  154-155,  157,  160-161)  that  Acilles  Tatius,  with- 
out saying  so,  often  treats  his  situations  like  scenes  in  real- 
istic comedy.  Longus,  as  already  pointed  out  (ante,  p.  122), 
uses  once  the  apparatus  of  tragedy  —  a  series  of  rumors  and 
messages  (III.  xxxi  ;  IV.  i,  v,  ix)  ;  and  once,  where  Daphnis 
puts  his  goats  through  a  musical  drill,  says  that  he  arranged 
the  spectators  Saairtp  Otarpov. 


184  THE    GREEK    ROMANCES    IN 

Enlarge  the  scale  of  Heliodorus's  "  pathetic 
optics  " ;  magnify  the  place ;  increase  the  number 
of  persons  enacting  or  witnessing  the  coup  de 
theatre, — the  number  of  persons  taking  part  in 
the  spectacle  or  moved  by  the  "  hieratic  epiph- 
any ; "  and  you  have  those  great  ensemble 
scenes  with  which  he  delights  to  mark  the  chief 
points  in  his  action.  Of  these,  four  may  be 
noted ;  the  beginning  of  the  adventure,  at  Delphi 
(III.  i-iv;  IV.  i-iv)  ;  the  first  turn  of  fortune 
towards  evil,  in  the  capture  by  pirates  (V.  xxvi) ; 
the  turn  of  fortune  toward  good,  in  the  scene  of 
reunion  at  Memphis  (VII.  v-viii)  ;  and  the 
happy  ending.  It  is  upon  such  scenes  that 
Heliodorus  lavishes  his  talent  for  visual  descrip- 
tion— a  talent  working  there  at  its  best,  in  the 
grandiose  manner  that  is  appropriate  to  the  scene 
and  characteristic  of  Heliodorus. — Calasiris  is 
about  to  pass  briefly  over  the  ceremonies  at 
Delphi :  "  After  the  Pompe  and  Funerall  was 
ended — :  Nay  Father  (quoth  Cnemon  interrupt- 
ing him)  it  is  not  done  yet,  seeing  your  talke 
hath  not  made  mee  also  looke  thereon  .  .  .  who 
desire  wonderfully  to  behold  the  whole  order 
thereof"  (U.  79).  Accordingly  Calasiris  de- 
scribes in  detail  the  first  part  of  the  procession, — 
the  hecatombs  of  oxen,  the  flocks  of  other  vic- 
tims, the  lesser  ministers  of  Apollo  in  attendance, 
the  maidens  dancing  with  baskets  of  fruit  and 
flowers,  and  vases  of  perfumes  and  conserves ; 
and  the  second  part,  consisting  of  the  singers  of 
the  Hymn  to  Thetis.  He  then  proceeds,  deliber- 
ately conscious  of  sensuous  effect :  "  The  dance 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE    FICTION  185 

which  accompanied  this  song  was  so  well  adapted 
to  it,  and  the  cadence  of  their  steps  agreed  so 
exactly  with  the  melody  .  .  .  that  for  awhile,  in 
spite  of  the  magnificence  of  the  spectacle,  the 
sense  of  seeing  was  overpowered  and  suspended 
by  that  of  hearing.  ...  At  length  a  band  of 
youths  on  horseback,  with  their  splendidly 
dressed  commander,  .  .  .  afforded  a  spectacle 
far  preferable  to  any  sounds"  (III.  iii;  B  64). 
The  spectacle  is  that  of  Theagenes's  escort,  whose 
dress,  mounts  and  accoutrements  are  minutely 
described.  Theagenes  follows. — "  .  .  .  He  was 
cm  horseback  also,  with  a  speare  of  Ashe  poynted 
with  steele  in  his  hands,  he  had  no  helmet  on, 
but  was  bare  headed.  His  cloke  was  of  Purple 
wrought  with  Golde,  wherein  was  the  battell  of 
the  Centaures  and  Lapithes :  on  the  button  of  his 
cloke  was  Pallas  pictured,  bearing  a  shielde  be- 
fore her  breast,  wherein  was  Gorgons  head.  The 
comelines  and  commendation  of  that  which  was 
done,  was  some  what  increased  by  the  easie  blow- 
ing of  the  winde,  which  mooved  his  haire  about 
his  necke,  parting  it  before  his  forhead,  and  made 
his  cloake  wave,  and  the  nether  parts  thereof 
to  cover  the  back  and  buttocks  of  his  horse.  You 
would  have  sayde  that  hys  horse  did  knowe  the 
beautie  of  his  master,  and  that  he  beeing  very 
faire  him  selfe,  did  beare  a  passing  seemely  man, 
he  rayned  so,  and  with  pricked  up  eares  he  tossed 
his  head  and  rolled  his  eyes  fiercelie,  and 
praunced.  and  leapt  in  so  fine  sort.  When  he 
had  the  raynes  a  little  at  will,  he  would  set  for- 
ward cou  ration  si  v.  and  turne  about  on  both  sides. 


1 86  THE    GREEK    ROMANCES    IN 

and  beat  the  ground  with  the  tippes  of  his  houfes 
lightly,  and  moderate  his  fiercenes  with  the  pleas- 
auntnesse  of  his  pace"  (U  81-2).  Nor  is  the 
effect  upon  the  spectators  forgotten:  the  men 
praise  Theagenes,  the  women  pelt  him  with 
apples  and  flowers.  And  now  appears  Chariclea, 
described  with  the  same  particularity, — more 
beautiful  even  than  Theagenes, — her  eyes  shin- 
ing with  greater  splendor  than  that  of  the  sacred 
torch  she  bears.  This  torch  she  presents  to 
Theagenes : — at  that  moment  their  eyes  meet,  and 
they  love.  The  background  is  magnificent, — the 
temple  of  Apollo,  with  a  vast  assemblage  in  splen- 
did attire  solemnly  grouped  around  the  altar ; 
while  at  the  altar,  the  centre  of  all  eyes,  are  the 
pair  of  young  lovers,  hieratic,  beautiful.  No 
wonder  that  Raphael  is  supposed  to  have  painted 
this  scene  (III.  iv,  v).  Again  at  the  race  (IV. 
iii,  iv)  we  have  the  same  pictorial  "  composi- 
tion " ;  a  monumental  background  of  architec- 
ture; a  throng  of  spectators  symmetrically  dis- 
posed about  the  amphitheatre;  and  again,  now 
in  the  arena,  the  two  or  three  central  figures: 
"  Chariclea  glistered  at  the  race  ende  ...  in  her 
left  hand  she  had  a  burning  taper,  and  in  the 
other  a  branche  of  palme,  and  as  soone  as  she 
appeared,  every  man  looked  upon  her.  .  .  .  After 
they  had  run  the  middle  of  the  race  .  .  .  (The- 
agenes) turned  him  a  little  about,  and  frowning 
upon  Ormenus,  lifted  up  his  shield  aloft,  and 
stretched  out  his  necke,  and  with  face  fast  fixed 
uppon  Cariclia,  at  last  he  got  to  the  race  end, 
and  start  so  farre  before,  that  the  Archadian 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  I  $7 

was  many  yardes  behinde"  (U  99,  101).  The 
scene  of  the  capture  by  pirates,  where  Chariclea 
embraces  the  pirate's  knees,  pleading  for  the  life 
of  Calasiris  and  Theagenes  (V.  xxvi),  is  also 
said  to  have  been  painted  by  Raphael.  Here  too 
there  is  a  large  and  various  background  —  two 
ships  grappled;  two  crews,  one  victorious,  one 
defeated;  and,  as  before,  the  group  of  two  in 
the  centre,  now  with  a  subsidiary  pair  besides.56 

The  closing  passages  of  the  story  —  the  ordeals 
before  the  King,  Queen,  priesthood  and  people 
of  Ethiopia  in  solemn  assembly;  the  procession 
of  embassadors  bearing  rich  gifts  ;  the  wrestling- 
bout  of  Theagenes  with  "  the  Duke's  champion," 
and  his  wonderful  feat  of  driving  the  horse  and 
the  bull  together  and  felling  the  bull  ;  the  sudden 
appearance  of  Charicles  to  resolve  the  complica- 
tion; the  mystic  pomp  and  trionfo  with  which 
all  ends  —  these  likewise  afford  many  spectacles 
of  dignity  and  splendor,  involving  an  ample  scenic 
background,  and  a  great  multitude  to  be  touched 
and  moved. 

But  even  these  great  scenes,  rich  and  various 
as  they  are,  do  not  sum  up  and  blend  so  many  of 
the  characteristics  of  Heliodorus  as  does  the 
scene  of  recognition,  reunion  and  reconciliation 
under  the  walls  of  Memphis  (VII.  v-viii),  —  a 
scene  which  in  structure,  function,  and  ornament 
is  the  most  representative  passage  of  the  " 


56  Concerning  the  tradition  that  Raphael  painted  these 
scenes,  I  can  only  say,  with  Wilson  (Dunlop,  "  Hist,  of 
Fiction,"  I.  36,  note)  and  Oeftering  (p.  167),  that  I  have 
found  no  confirmation  of  it,  or  indication  of  the  where- 
abouts of  the  paintings. 


1 88  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

pica."  The  situation  is  notably  structural.  It 
marks  and  effects  the  transition  from  one  main 
set  of  misadventures — those  caused  by  storms, 
pirates  and  brigands, — to  the  other  main  set — 
those  due  to  intrigue  and  illicit  passion.67  This 
transition  it  accomplishes,  first  by  inserting  be- 
tween the  two  sets  of  misadventures  a  moment 
of  good  fortune,  wherein  persons  separated  are 
reunited  and  persons  at  odds  are  reconciled ;  and 
secondly  by  giving  occasion  both  to  drop  the  sub- 
sidiary persons  involved  in  the  first  set  (Calasiris, 
who  dies  immediately  afterward,  and  Thyamis, 
who  takes  no  further  part  in  the  action),  and  to 
introduce  the  subsidiary  persons  (Arsace,  Cybele, 
etc.)  involved  in  the  second  set.  Structural  it  is 
moreover  in  the  sense  that  it  is  directly  controlled 
by  the  forces  that  are  at  work  to  move  the  re- 
mainder of  the  plot.  The  arrival  of  Calasiris, 
sudden  and  surprising  though  it  be,  comes  never- 
theless in  fulfilment  of  an  oracle  and  of  a  necro- 
mantic prophecy.  At  the  same  time  it  is  not  out- 
side the  course  of  Nature;  he  is  brought  to  the 
scene  by  following  the  adventures  of  Theagenes 
and  Chariclea,  who  came  into  his  life  in  conse- 
quence of  his  retreat  to  Delphi.  So  that  we  have 
the  combination  which  Aristotle  commends,  of 
the  unexpected  with  the  caused;  and  we  have  it 
expressly  ascribed  to  Fortune  working  under 
Providence  (ante,  p.  116).  Furthermore,  inCal- 
asiris's  revelation  of  himself  to  his  sons,  and 
Chariclea's  revelation  of  herself  to  Theagenes, 

61  As  for  the  danger  of  being  sacrificed  by  the  Ethiopians, 
I  count  that  out  for  the  present  puipose,  as  being — struc- 
turally speaking — only  the  "  moment "  of  last  suspense. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  189 

we  have  a  double  "hieratic  epiphany";  Calasiris 
drops  his  disguise  of  rags,  and  stands  forth  in  his 
priestly  robe ;  Chariclea  speaks  the  word  Pythius, 
and  reminds  Theagenes  of  her  sacred  torch. — 
Again,  the  whole  passage  is  avowedly  theatrical : 
the  spectators  on  the  walls  are  likened  to  the  spec- 
tators at  a  play ;  the  arrival  of  Calasiris  is  likened 
to  that  of  an  actor  ex  machina,  and  is  termed 
"  an  episode,"  or  "  the  beginning  of  a  rival  ac- 
tion"—  (viz.,  an  action  rivaling  in  interest  the 
fight  between  the  brothers)  ;  Chariclea's  entrance 
is  "  a  new  interlude  " ;  her  encounter  with  Thea- 
genes, "  the  love  interest  of  the  play  " ;  several 
recognitions  are  involved;  and  the  conclusion  is 
that  "  the  tragedy,  which  threatened  bloodshed, 
had  passed  into  a  comedy."  Spectacular  the  sit- 
uation is  too,  and  most  grandiose  and  "  pathetic." 
The  scene  of  action  is  no  less  than  the  whole 
exterior  of  a  city,  its  walls  and  gateways  thronged 
with  people, — and  the  plain  below,  where,  against 
this  monumental  background,  the  five  protago- 
nists move  in  shifting  groups.  Meanwhile,  Ar- 
sace  feeds  her  eyes  and  her  passion  upon  the 
beauty  of  Theagenes;  the  spectators  now  laugh 
at  the  futility  of  Calasiris's  interference,  now 
"  stand  like  pictures,"  and  now  are  "  overcome 
with  wonder";  and  at  the  end,  spontaneously, 
they  form  a  Trionfo,  with  torches,  and  pipes  and 
flutes,  marching  in  pomp  to  the  Temple  of  Isis. 
This  is  Heliodorus  at  his  best,  at  his  most  char- 
acteristic: spectacular,  optical,  "pathetic,"  theat- 
rical, hieratic,  grandiose. 

But  even  at  his  best,  Heliodorus  inevitablv  and 


190  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

painfully  reminds  us  of  the  fundamental  vice  of 
the  Greek  Romancers, — their  fatal  lack  of  spirit- 
uality. Most  spiritually  minded  of  them  all,  con- 
ceiving his  theme  in  something  like  the  grand 
manner,  with  some  attempt  at  breadth  and  no- 
bility, he  yet  commits  himself,  like  the  rest,  to 
the  task — not  of  spiritualizing  the  world  of  sense 
by  interpreting  it  in  terms  of  character  and  divine 
destiny, — but  of  making  character  and  divine  des- 
tiny minister  to  the  pleasures  of  the  world  of 
sense.  For  him,  the  gods,  and  human  excellence 
as  well,  are  producers  of  spectacles.  One  last 
illustration  will  suffice,  and  will  close  this  discus- 
sion. There  are  three  scenes,  one  in  Longus,  one 
in  Achilles  Tatius,  one  in  Heliodorus,  so  much 
alike  that  they  almost  seem  to  represent  a  con- 
vention of  the  genre.  Daphnis  escapes  drowning, 
and  triumphantly  half-swims,  half-rides  ashore 
suported  on  the  horns  of  two  of  his  cattle,  "as 
in  a  chariot"  (I.  xxx).  Clinias  upon  a  yard  gal- 
lantly rides  the  waves,  and  as  he  is  driven  near 
Clitophon  and  Leucippe  cries  out,  "  Hold  fast, 
Clitophon!"  (III.  v).  Theagenes  having  felled 
the  bull  "  lay  upon  him,  and  with  his  left  hand 
held  him  downe,  but  lifted  his  right  hand  up  to 
heaven,  and  looked  merrilie  upon  Hydaspes  and 
all  that  were  there  els,  who  laughed,  and  were 
much  delighted  with  that  sight,  and  they  heard 
that  the  Bull  with  his  lowing  declared  the  famous- 
ness of  the  victorie,  as  wel  as  if  it  had  been 
declared  with  a  trumpet"  (U  281-2;  X.  xxx). 
In  all  these  scenes  the  young  man  by  his  own 
efforts  triumphs  over  physical  danger, — indeed  is 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  191 

placed  visibly  over  the  thing  he  conquers,  and  in 
manifest  control  of  it;  and  he  is  free  from  any 
sign  of  fear, — nay  in  two  cases  shows  a  smiling 
nonchalance.  The  heroism  of  Theagenes  is  fur- 
ther enhanced  by  the  fact  that  he  himself  seeks 
the  danger,  having  undertaken  this  feat  of  his 
own  motion;  and  by  the  fact  that  he  is  actually 
awaiting  death  at  the  time,  but  can  yet  muster 
up  courage  to  make  so  brave  a  show. — What, 
then,  does  this  valor,  this  virtus,  amount  to? 
What,  in  the  hero's  supreme  hour,  is  this  final 
manifestation  of  his  excellence?  Why,  a  mere 
piece  of  theatricals ;  a  bit  of  spectacular  heroics ; 
a  mountebank's  feat ;  a  trick  of  the  arena,  per- 
formed by  an  animal-tamer  "  to  make  a  Roman 
holiday."  And  this  at  the  end  of  the  most  spir- 
itual of  the  Greek  Romances !  Finally,  it  is  note- 
worthy that  this  passage,  like  all  the  other  great 
spectacular  passages  lately  cited,  signifies  as  much 
for  plot  and  for  character  as  for  setting.  The 
wheel  has  come  full  circle:  plot,  character,  set- 
ting,— what  was  found  true  of  one  is  found  true 
of  all ;  and  what  is  found  true  of  all  in  Helio- 
dorus  is  found  true  of  all,  a  fortiori,  in  Longus 
and  Achilles  Tatius.  "  Wahn,  Wahn,  iiberall 
Wahn!"  One  and  all  they  subject  the  spirit  to 
the  sense;  one  and  all  they  minister  to  the  lust 
and  pride  of  the  eye;  one  and  all  they  rest  in  a 
world  of  sound  and  show, — sunk  in  matter,  and 
"bound  upon  the  Wheel  of  Things."  Not  until 
the  Renaissance  revives  their  influence  does  there 
again  appear  so  striking  a  specimen  of  the  world's 
literature  of  illusion. 


Ipa  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

Such  is  the  content  of  the  Greek  Romances, 
such  their  matter, — conveniently  set  forth  as 
Plot,  Character,  and  Setting.  And  as  these  three 
are  often  indivisible, — for  example  in  the  spec- 
tacular scenes  just  now  noticed, — so  are  Struc- 
ture and  Style  in  large  part  inseparable  from 
them  and  from  each  other.  Yet  it  will  be  con- 
venient to  make  the  division :  to  speak  of  the 
form  of  these  Romances  apart  from  their  matter 
or  content  just  expounded,  and  to  treat  this  form 
under  its  separate  aspects  of  Structure  and  Style. 
Always,  though,  the  endeavor  will  be  to  show 
how  all  these  are  connected  rather  than  disjoined ; 
to  show,  more  especially,  how  they  are  all  refer- 
able to  the  common  characteristics  of  the  genre  or 
to  the  particular  author's  conception  of  his  work. 


Heliodorus,  conceiving  his  Romance  as  a  prose 
epic,58  constructs  it  upon  the  approved  epic  plan. 
He  takes  the  reader  at  once  in  medias  res,  at  a 
point  where  the  action  has  already  become  com- 
plicated, and  lets  it  explicate  itself  gradually 
through  the  speech  of  the  personages.  "Action 
first,  explanation  afterwards"  is  his  device  to 
maintain  interest.  This  narrative  structure  has 
been  much  commended;59  and  it  would  indeed 
deserve  all  praise  were  it  carried  out  with  any 
sort  of  moderation,  and  were  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea  so  characterized  at  the  beginning  as  to 
make  the  reader  willing  to  keep  his  interest  on  a 
continual  strain  until  he  shall  find  out  their  pre- 

58  Cf.  p.  157,  ante. 

58  See  citations  at  Oeftering,  21-22. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  193 

vious  history.  In  "  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  "—to 
take  an  illustration  per  contra — the  full  chain  of 
causes  that  make  the  beginning  of  the  story  is  not 
revealed  until  within  a  few  pages  of  the  end  (by 
Dr.  Manette's  prison-diary,  read  at  the  trial  of 
Darnay)  ;  thus  the  suspense  is  maintained  still 
longer  than  in  the  'Mithiopica  " ;  yet  the  reader 
is  kept  engaged,  because  the  personages  have  been 
made  intrinsically  interesting  from  the  first.  Not 
so  the  personages  of  the  "^thiopica." — Nor  has 
Heliodorus  kept  measure  in  the  execution  of  his 
involved  plan.  Calasiris  "  tells  the  story  of  his 
life" — which  includes  the  adventures  of  Thea- 
genes  and  Chariclea  previous  to  the  opening 
scene — not  only  at  disproportionate  length,  but 
under  unjustifiable  interruptions.  Cnemon's  story 
— itself  only  an  episode — likewise  comes  out 
piecemeal.  Neither  is  finished  at  a  sitting,  like 
Aeneas's  narrative  to  Dido,  or  Odysseus's  to  the 
Phaeacians  ;60  and  between  the  several  instal- 
ments there  intervene  events  contemporary  with 
the  telling:  the  arrival  of  Nausicles,  the  arrival  of 
Chariclea,  her  lamentations,  Cnemon's  fright,  etc., 
which  put  the  reader  to  a  strain  not  warranted  by 
his  interest.  Cnemon's  story  is  even  interlaced 
with  Calasiris's ;  and  the  reader  must  for  some 
time,  like  a  juggler  keeping  three  oranges  in  the 
air  at  once,  bear  in  mind  three  distinct  and  non- 

*°  To  be  sure,  Odysseus's  preliminary  account,  of  how  he 
had  been  cast  ashore  and  had  met  Nausicaa,  is  separated 
from  the  body  of  his  narrative ;  but  these  events,  being 
known  to  the  reader,  are  merely  recapitulated,  and  involve 
no  strain  of  attention. 

14 


194  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

coordinate61  lines  of  narrative: — the  events  act- 
ually current;  Calasiris's  story  still  unfinished; 
and  Cnemon's  story  still  unfinished  (V.  ii,  VI. 
ii ) .  Here  again  we  have  an  effect  of  Heliodorus's 
peculiar  conception  of  his  work — this  time  an 
effect  of  his  theatrical  conception  of  it.62  He 
applies  to  his  narrative,  already  complex  enough, 
the  technique  of  the  stage.  He  will  tell  as  little 
as  possible ;  he  declines  the  role  of  the  omniscient 
novelist  speaking  of  his  men  and  women  in  the 
third  person;  they  must  do  their  own  talking. 
Hence,  let  the  continuity  of  the  tale  suffer  as  it 
will,  nobody  is  known  till  he  actually  appears  on 
the  scene;  nobody's  appearance  is  prepared  for; 
and  each  person  when  he  does  appear  must  tell 
in  the  first  person  "  the  story  of  his  life."  So  far 
does  Heliodorus  carry  this  inappropriate  dramatic 
method  that  at  one  time  (II.  xxx-xxxii)  there  is 
a  fourfold  involution  of  the  narrative:  (i)  Cala- 
siris  and  Cnemon  being  at  Chemmis  in  the  course 
of  the  current  narrative,  (2)  Calasiris  quotes  to 
Cnemon  what  (3)  Charicles  at  Delphi  quoted  to 
him  (Calasiris)  as  having  been  (4)  said  to  him 
(Charicles)  by  Sisimithres  at  Catadupi!  A  nest 
of  boxes — "  cycle  and  epicycle,  orb  in  orb." 
This  mixture  of  methods  epic  and  dramatic  has 

41  There  is  no  undue  strain  involved  in  following  several 
coordinate  threads  of  a  plot, — e.  g.,  the  several  adventures 
of  different  persons  or  groups.  But  this  is  not  the  task 
here ;  the  stories  of  Cnemon  and  of  Calasiris  are  both  sub- 
ordinate to  the  current  story ;  they  both  constitute  a  pre- 
vious part  of  it ;  they  both  are  needed  to  account  for  it ; 
and  so  should  no  more  be  mingled  with  it  than  cause 
should  be  mingled  with  effect. 

03  Cf.  ante,  pp.  157,  181-184. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  195 

several  further  results.  In  the  first  place,  while  it 
complicates  the  pattern,  it  renders  the  fabric 
sleazy,  open-meshed,  and,  here  and  there,  discontin- 
uous. An  author  who  loses  sight  of  his  personages 
for  five  books  at  a  time  would  be  extraordinary  if 
he  did  not  sometimes  forget  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  left  them.  There  are  several  such  "  loose 
threads"  in  the  "y£thiopica."G3  Moreover,  its 
time-scheme  is  excessively  obscure.  The  reader 
is  glad  if  he  can  realize  that  X,  which  is  told  long 
chapters  after  Y,  actually  occurred  before  it; 
content  if  he  can  keep  time-sequence  clear,  he 
allows  himself  a  general  uninquiring  sense  of 
obscurity  about  time-length.  Analysis  might  in- 
deed show  that  the  chronology  is  quite  consistent : 
the  point  is,  that  the  reader  is  left  with  the  feel- 
ing that  it  is  not.  Again,  this  open-work  fabric 
leaves  room,  in  its  wide  meshes,  for  the  insertion 
of  every  kind  of  irrelevancy.  The  main  story  of 
the  "yEthiopica,"  for  fully  half  its  course,  is  de- 
graded to  the  level  of  a  "  frame-tale,"  and  made 
to  enclose  the  incidental  novella  of  Cnemon,  the 
narratives,  wheel  within  wheel,  of  Calasiris,  Char- 
icles,  and  Sisimithres,  and  innumerable  fragments 
of  pseudo-science,  geography,  and  apocryphal 
literary  history  and  criticism :  a  disquisition  on 
the  evil  eye  (U  86-87;  HI-  vii-viii),on  the  white 
and  black  magic  of  the  Egyptians  (U  92;  III. 

83  At  I.  xxxii,  Thyamis  is  taken  prisoner ;  at  VI.  iii,  he 
is  reported  to  be  heading  a  band  of  insurgents.  There  is 
no  account  of  what  happened  between.  At  I.  xxx-xxxi,  he 
supposes  that  he  has  killed  Chariclea ;  at  VII.  vii  ff,  he 
meets  her  without  surprise.  (Pointed  out,  among  other 
"  loose  threads,"  by  Walden,  i  n.  2.) 


196  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

xvi),  on  the  inundation  of  the  Nile  (U  68-9;  II. 
xxviii)  ;  "A  rule  of  Homer,  how  to  knowe  the 
gods:  expounded  by  Calasiris"  (U  90;  III.  xii- 
xiii)  ;  "A  pretty  discourse,  whereby  Calasiris 
proveth  Homer  to  be  an  Egyptian  "  (U  91 ;  III. 
xiv)  and  other  "  Prettie  Heathenish  questions." 
This  irrelevancy  is  so  characteristic  of  the  Greek 
Romance  as  a  genre,  that  though  touched  upon 
before,  it  must  be  returned  to  again  and  again. 
In  actual  bulk,  probably  not  less  than  a  quarter 
of  the  "yEthiopica"  consists  either  of  matters 
irrelevant,  or  of  matters  relevant  unduly  ex- 
panded.64 Finally,  Heliodorus's  narrative  struc- 

M  Relevant  matter  unduly  expanded :  The  lengthy  ac- 
counts of  Hydaspes'  siege  of  Syene  and  battle  with  Oroon- 
dates,  which  occupy  the  whole  of  Book  IX,  and  give  color 
to  the  "  legend  that  in  the  sixteenth  century  it  (the 
'jEthiopica ')  was  gravely  considered  a  handbook  of  tac- 
tics "  (Whibley,  Introd.,  p.  xiv).  '  The  oration  of  Thyamis 
to  his  mates  .  .  .  (containing)  the  duetie  of  a  good  Cap- 
taine.  .  .  .  Three  things  worth  noting  and  following  in 
choice  of  a  wife"  (U  29-30  Glosses).  "The  oration  of 
Thyamis  .  .  .  (showing)  How  warre  with  theeves  is  ended  " 
(U  37  do.).  "  Calasiris  dissembled  oration  "  (to  the  Del- 
phians)  (U  117,  18  do.);  "  Caricles  pitifull  oration  about 
the  taking  away  of  Cariclia"  (U  118  do.)  ;  "  Hegesias  Ora- 
tion as  touching  the  pursuite  of  those  who  tooke  away 
Cariclia.  Occasion  is  of  most  force  in  warre"  (U  119 
do.).  "  Cariclia's  pittiful  complaint  being  separated  from 
Theagenes  "  (U  125  do.)  ;  "The  sorrowe  that  Cariclia  was 
in,  at  Cnemon  his  marriage"  (U  163  do.).  "A  wise  ora- 
tion of  a  gentle  man  of  Syene"  (U  238  do.).  "The 
oration  of  Hydaspes  souldiers  .  .  .  wherein  Hydaspes  is 
commended  for  all  the  vertues  requisite  or  needful  for  a 
King"  (U  238  do.).  "Great  matters  may  not  be  sleightly 
handled,  and  here  is  a  passing  witty  conference  betweene 
Theagenes  and  Cariclia"  (U  253  do.).  "A  pretty  commu- 
nication between  Hydaspes  and  Oroondates "  (U  250  do.). 
"  All  the  oration  of  Hydaspes,  declareth  what  is  the  dutie 
of  a  good  King  "  (U  272  do.). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  197 

ture  lends  itself  to  dramatic  retardation:  the 
story,  as  has  been  said,  comes  out  in  driblets; 
between  any  two  portions  concerning  any  given 
interest  there  are  likely  to  be  interpolated  half  a 
dozen  other  portions  concerning  other  interests; 
so  that,  besides  an  effect  of  pleasurable  suspense,65 

The  episode  of  the  sojourn  with  Tyrrhenus  (V.  xviii- 
xxii)  is  relevant;  not  so  Tyrrhenus's  deafness,  and  his 
conversation  at  cross-purposes  with  Calasiris.  The  char- 
acter of  Tyrrhenus  is  not  worked  out  with  this  deafness  as 
an  element  in  it,  or  indeed  worked  out  at  all ;  nor  does 
anything  happen  in  the  plot  because  of  this  deafness,  or 
because  of  the  conversation  at  cross-purposes  (U  137-8; 
V.  xviii).  In  the  same  way,  when  Calasiris,  Nausicles  and 
Cnemon  leave  Chemmis  to  seek  Theagenes  (VI.  iii-iv), 
and  Heliodorus  needs  somebody  to  tell  them  that  Mithranes 
has  moved  toward  Bessa,  he  creates  for  the  purpose  a 
nameless  acquaintance  of  Nausicles  ;  but,  not  contented  with 
letting  him  tell  his  news,  weaves  an  irrelevant  episode 
about  him :  makes  him  out  to  be  in  love  with  one  Isias, 
an  exacting  mistress,  at  whose  behest  he  is  taking  to  her 
a  "  Phoenicopter."  About  this  there  ensues  a  bit  of  rally- 
ing conversation ;  the  nameless  lover  says  what  the  author 
created  him  to  say,  and  is  then  absolutely  dropped,  and 
never  heard  of  again.  Episodes  engaging  in  themselves, 
and  exhibiting  much  the  same  sort  of  creative  profusion 
as  Dickens  exhibits  when  he  creates  and  throws  away 
("  David  Copperfield,"  ch.  I)  the  woman  who  bought 
David's  caul. 

"  II  lasciar  1'auditore  sospeso  procedendo  dal  confuso 
al  distinto,  dall'  universale  a'  particolari  .  .  .  e  una  delle 
cagioni  che  fa  piacer  tanto  Eliodoro."  T.  Tasso,  Opere,  X, 
103,  ed.  Venez.  (So  quoted  and  cited  by  Jacobs,  Einleitung 
to  his  translation  of  the  "^Ithiopica.") 

Artistic  suspense : — At  the  race  at  Delphi,  says  Calasiris, 
' '  the  spectators  were  on  the  very  tiptoe  of  expectation, 
and  full  of  solicitude  for  the  issue ;  and  I  more  than  all. 
.  .  .'  '  No  wonder,'  said  Cnemon,  '  that  those  present  were 
in  an  agony  of  expectation,  when  I,  even  now,  am  trem- 
bling for  Theagenes.  Deliver  me,  therefore,  I  beseech  you, 
as  soon  as  you  can,  out  of  my  suspense'"  (B  81  ;  IV.  iii). 
Here  the  reader's  suspense  is  heightened  both  by  the  inter- 
ruption itself,  which  delays  the  telling  of  the  outcome,  and 


198  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

the  reader  is  quite  likely  to  feel  an  effect  of  dis- 
traction and  irritation  anything  but  pleasurable. 
He  grows  impatient  for  the  event ;  but  no :  "  Der 
Vorhang  [wird]  erst  nach  und  nach  weiter  auf- 
gezogen  und  das  voile  Geheimnis  erst  am  Ende 
enthiillt."66  The  end  is  in  fact  the  most  provok- 
ing example  of  this  retarding  policy.  We  know 
that  all's  bound  to  come  out  right;  yet  we  must 
first  undergo  Chariclea's  circumlocutions  and  ter- 
giversations, next  be  distracted  by  the  reception 
of  the  ambassadors,  then  be  distracted  again  by 
Theagenes's  gladiatorial  exhibition,  and  finally 
suffer  the  knot  to  be  untied,  not  by  Chariclea's 
explanation  at  all,  but  by  the  totally  unexpected 
arrival  of  Charicles.  Involution,  complication, 
interruption  of  the  story,  insertion  of  matter 
irrelevant,  episodic,  or  unduly  expanded,  retarda- 
tion, suspense,  and  cheap  surprise — all,  it  seems, 
are  of  a  piece;  all  are  the  natural  results  of  a 
narrative  method  that  is  overstrained  and  vitiated 
by  the  desire  for  alien  effects.67 

by  the  content  of  the  interruption — Cnemon's  own  sus- 
pense. The  effect  is  made  possible  by  Heliodorus's  dra- 
matic method,  of  having  the  event  related  to  a  hearer. 

89  Christ,  p.  848. 

**  Among  the  effects  of  dramatic  technique  upon  Helio- 
dorus's narrative  method  there  should  perhaps  be  reckoned 
the  employment  of  the  confidant.  The  functions  of  this 
personage — to  take  the  place  of  the  Chorus  in  commenting 
and  moralizing  the  action ;  to  take  the  place  of  monologue 
in  enabling  the  hero  to  free  his  mind ;  to  explain  an  open- 
ing situation,  or  in  general  TO,  e£w  rrjs  rpaytpSias,  or  in  par- 
ticular whatever  has  happened  to  the  confidant  and  his 
interlocutor  before  their  present  meeting ;  to  support  the 
hero  in  affliction  and  dissuade  him  from  suicide ; — these 
functions  are  in  the  "^thiopica  "  performed  for  the  most 
part  by  Calasiris  (cf.  Tiichert,  pp.  15-17). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  199 

Longus  tells  his  plain  tale  in  chronological  or- 
der, except,  of  course,  that  he  reserves  the  reve- 
lation of  Daphnis  and  Chloe's  parentage.  He 
strives  after  no  effects  alien  to  legitimate  narra- 
tive, allows  the  succession  of  the  seasons  to  carry 
the  story  along,  and  relates  things  when  they 
occur,  regardless  of  involution  or  complication, 
retardation  or  suspense.  His  episodes — the  Met- 
amorphosis of  the  Ring-dove  (I.xxvii)  ;  Philetas's 
idyl  of  Love  in  a  Garden  (II.  xxxvi)  ;  the  Myth 
of  Pan  and  Syrinx  (II.  xxxiv)  and  of  Pan  and 
Echo  (III.  xxiii)  ;  the  argument  of  '  Methym- 
naeans  vs.  Daphnis'  (II.  xv-xvi) ;  and  the  de- 
scriptive passages  (ante,  pp.  166-169)  ; — nearly 
all  fall  well  within  the  frame  of  his  very  simple 
plot  and  his  very  loose  idyllic  plan.  No  strict 
unity  is  to  be  expected  of  a  writer  who  professes 
to  offer  only  a  succession  of  pictures ;  and  we  are 
again  astonished  at  Longus's  moderation. 

Achilles  Tatius  makes  Qitophon  tell  his  own 
story  to  the  listening  author,  but  soon  forgets 
that  he  has  adopted  this  method :  the  author,  un- 
like Cnemon,  nowhere  interrupts  the  narrative, 
nor  does  he  "  envelope  "  it  at  the  end,  as  at  the 
beginning,  by  resuming  his  account  of  himself. 
Neither  does  Clitophon  carry  out  consistently  his 
own  narrative  in  the  first  person :  he  assumes 
omniscience  wherever  Achilles  Tatius  finds  it  con- 
venient, and  often  reports  conversations,  and 
thoughts,  feelings  and  motives,  some  of  which 
he  could  certainly  not  have  known  at  the  time 
they  occurred,  and  some  of  which  he  could  never 
have  known  at  all.  For  example,  in  Book  VI: 


200  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

what  happened  at  the  door  of  the  room  which 
had  been  Clitophon's  place  of  confinement,  after 
the  return  of  the  slave-girl  who  guided  him  out 
of  the  house  (ii) ;  the  conversation  between 
Thersander  and  Sosthenes  (iii-iv) ;  Melitta's 
shrewd  plan  and  her  speeches  to  Thersander  (viii- 
xi) ;  what  Thersander  and  Sosthenes  did  and  said 
before  entering  the  cottage  (xv,  xvii).  But 
though  Achilles  Tatius  is  not  master,  in  the  large, 
of  this  dramatic  method  of  telling  his  story,  he 
several  times  displays  dramatic  art  of  no  mean 
order68  in  choosing  persons  to  relate  its  incidents. 
It  is  from  her  mother  Panthea  that  Leucippe 
learns  of  the  escape  of  Clio  (II.  xxviii) ;  it  is 
Melitta  herself  who,  not  knowing  Leucippe,  tells 
her  that  Clitophon  has  been  faithful  (V.  xxii)  ; 
and  it  is  Leucippe,  who,  unaware  that  Thersander 
is  listening  to  her  soliloquy,  informs  him  that 
there  has  been  no  adultery  between  Clitophon  and 
Melitta  (VI.  xvi).  In  every  case  the  words  gain 
in  force  from  the  speaker,  the  situation,  and  the 
hearer.  This  narrative,  moreover,  which  makes 
such  effective  occasional  use  of  dramatic  situa- 
tion, is  quite  unhampered  by  the  conventions  of 
the  epic.  It  begins  at  the  beginning,  follows,  for 
the  most  part,  the  chronological  order,  and  never 
puzzles  the  reader.  Its  straightforward  ordon- 
nance  naturally  aids  the  author  in  taking  care  of 
his  time-relations,  which,  indeed,  he  has  accu- 
rately thought  out  in  detail.  The  flight  of  Clito- 
phon and  Leucippe  with  Clinias,  their  shipwreck, 

68  Cf.  ante,  pp.  154,  160. — The  role  of  confidant,  in  "  Clit- 
ophon and  Leucippe,"  is  divided  among  Clinias,  Satyrus, 
and  Menelaus. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  JO  I 

the  rescue  of  Clinias,  and  his  return  to  Tyre — 
together  occupy  precisely  five  days ;  so  that  Clin- 
ias, having  given  out  that  he  was  to  be  in  the 
country  ten  days,  finds  it  easy  to  allay  suspicion, 
and  prevent  his  complicity  in  the  elopement  from 
transpiring.  Two  days  after  Clinias,  Hippias  re- 
turns from  the  journey  on  which  he  was  absent 
when  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  eloped.  Upon  his 
arrival  he  finds  waiting  for  him  his  half-brother's 
letter,  which  arrived  just  one  day  after  the  elope- 
ment (V.  x). — The  deviations  from  chronolog- 
ical order  are  both  made  in  the  interest  of  sus- 
pense :  the  mystery  of  the  supposed  decapitation 
of  Leucippe  (V.  vii)  is  not  cleared  up  till  within 
a  few  chapters  of  the  end  (VIII.  xv) ;  the  no- 
vella of  Callisthenes  and  Calligone,  suspended  at 
the  latter's  abduction  (II.  xviii),  is  not  resumed 
till  VIII.  xvii,  and  not  completed  till  the  last 
chapter  of  all,  where  it  is  again  brought  into  line 
with  the  main  plot,  contemporaneously  with 
which  it  ends. 

This  novella  is  bound  to  the  main  plot  by  a 
single  thread,  but  a  very  strong  one :  the  abduc- 
tion of  Calligone  renders  impossible  her  marriage 
to  Clitophon  as  planned,  and  permits  the  success- 
ful prosecution  of  his  love-affair  with  Leucippe. 
In  so  far,  it  is  not  so  irrelevant  as  the  novella  of 
Cnemon,  in  the  "/Ethiopica."68  But  in  the  num- 
ber and  the  bulk  of  his  irrelevancies  Achilles 
Tatius  far  exceeds  Heliodorus;  if  the  "y£thio- 

88  The  irrelevancy  of  Cnemon's  story  is  disguised.  He 
tells  the  instalments  at  so  many  places  in  the  course  of  the 
main  plot  that  the  novella  as  a  whole  has  the  appearance 
of  being  structurally  interwoven  with  it. 


202  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

pica  "  is  about  a  quarter  out  of  its  frame,  "  Clito- 
phon  and  Leucippe"  must  be  nearly  half  out. 
Only  one  possible  artistic  purpose  can  be  served 
by  these  divagations, — that  of  retardation  and 
suspense, — an  effect  which  the  interruption  of 
main  plot  by  episode  or  novella,  and  of  episode 
or  novella  by  main  plot,  and  of  any  or  all  by 
digression,  excursus  and  expansion,  may  produce 
now  and  then.  But  such  is  the  mass,  and  such 
the  damnable  iteration,  of  the  irrelevancies  in 
"  Clitophon  and  Leucippe,"  that  for  the  most  part 
they  simply  put  the  reader  out  of  patience.  Some 
of  the  chief  of  them  having  already  been  dis- 
cussed will  now  be  only  recapitulated ;  others  will 
be  noted  more  fully,  and  certain  of  their  pecu- 
liarities pointed  out.  The  majority  may  be  roughly 
classified  as  Irrelevancies  of  Plot,  Irrelevancies 
of  Characterization,  and  Irrelevancies  of  Setting 
— a  rough  and  overlapping  classification  which 
will  leave  an  important  group  to  be  treated  as  a 
supplementary  class :  Irrelevant  Science  and 
Pseudo-Science. 

Irrelevancies  of  Plot. — The  episode  of  Clinias's 
favorite  Charicles,  of  the  compulsory  marriage 
proposed  for  him,70  and  of  his  death  by  a  fall 
from  his  horse71  (I.  vii— viii;  xii-xiv),  does  not 
touch  the  plot  at  a  single  point :  it  does  not  even 
appear  that  Clinias  was  the  more  willing  to  leave 
Tyre  because  of  his  friend's  death.  Equally  un- 

70  Which  in  turn  gives  occasion  to  a  tirade  against  women 
and  marriage. 

71  Which    in    turn    gives    occasion    to    three    displays   of 
rhetoric, — the  description   of  the   runaway  horse,  and  the 
lamentations  for  the  youth  by  his   father  and  by  Clinias 
respectively. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  203 

connected  with  the  plot  is  the  corresponding  epi- 
sode of  Menelaus's  favorite,  whom  Menelaus 
accidentally  killed  in  an  endeavor  to  save  him 
from  a  boar  (II.  xxxiv).  The  digressions  on  the 
origin  of  wine  (II.  ii)  and  on  the  discovery  of 
the  purple  dye  (II.  xi)  have  no  better  pretext 
than  that  a  wine-cup  is  used  at  a  feast,  and  that 
a  purple  robe  is  part  of  the  wedding-outfit.  Co- 
nops  and  his  amusing  interchange  of  Aesopic 
fables  with  Satyrus  play  no  part  whatever.  Conops 
does  not  hinder,  nor  does  his  defeat  in  this  skir- 
mish of  wits  promote,  the  rendezvous  or  the 
elopement:  at  the  last  moment  he  just  happens 
to  be  out  of  the  way,  absent  on  an  errand  (II. 
xx-xxii,  xxxi).  The  shipwreck  of  the  eloping 
party  (III.  iv)  and  the  consequent  hiring  of 
another  vessel  by  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  to  take 
them  to  Alexandria  (III.  ix)  are  of  exceedingly 
doubtful  relevancy.  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  were 
on  a  ship  bound  for  Alexandria  anyway;  so  that 
— (eliminating  the  shipwreck) — the  Herdsmen's 
attack  might  just  as  well  have  been  made  upon 
the  original  ship  at  the  same  point  in  its  voyage 
up  the  Nile.  It  may  plausibly  be  urged  that  the 
wreck  has  an  effect  upon  the  plot  in  that  it  sepa- 
rates Clitophon  and  Leucippe  from  their  com- 
panions; that  the  Herdsmen  consequently,  cap- 
turing our  pair  at  a  different  time  and  place  from 
Menelaus  and  Satyrus,  are  unaware  that  the  pris- 
oners are  all  friends;  and  hence  are  willing  to 
entrust  to  Menelaus  and  Satyrus  the  task  of  sac- 
rificing Leucippe — a  willingness  which  proves  to 
be  her  salvation.  But  such  a  separation  of  the 


204  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

party  might  just  as  easily  have  been  brought  about 
during  the  confusion  incident  to  the  Herdsmen's 
capture  of  the  original  ship.  Furthermore,  why 
should  Clitophon  and  Leucippe,  wrecked  at  Pelu- 
sium,  go  on  to  Alexandria  at  all?  It  is  only 
accident  (II.  xxxi)  that  makes  Alexandria  their 
destination  in  the  first  place ;  so  that,  if  the  ship 
that  happens  to  be  bound  thither  is  wrecked, 
they  have  no  particular  purpose  in  going  thither 
alone.  If,  then,  the  author  wished  them  to  go  to 
Alexandria,  and  to  be  exposed  to  the  attack  of 
river-pirates  on  the  way,  he  might  much  more 
plausibly  have  left  them  on  their  first  ship,  adher- 
ing with  some  sort  of  probability  to  the  destina- 
tion which  chance  had  assigned  them.  The  wreck 
had  better  have  been  left  out.  Of  course,  the 
omission  would  have  deprived  Achilles  Tatius  of 
numerous  show-pieces:  the  storm,  the  fight  for 
the  boats,  Clinias  riding  the  waves,  Clitophon's 
prayer  to  Poseidon,  and  the  statue  and  the  paint- 
ings at  Pelusium. — Charmides's  reinforcements 
are  delayed  by  the  appearance  of  the  Phoenix 
(III.  xxiv-xxv), — a  delay  which  has  no  effect 
one  way  or  the  other  upon  the  expedition,  has  no 
further  connection  with  the  story,  and  is  ob- 
viously introduced  to  give  occasion  for  an  account 
of  the  Phoenix  itself,  one  degree  further  removed 
from  relevancy.  The  story  of  Philomela  (V.  vi) 
is  uncalled  for,  given  the  painting  (ante,  p.  174). 
Between  the  first  court-scene  (VII.  vii-xii)  and 
the  second  (VIII.  viii-xi)  the  idea  comes  to 
Thersander  that  he  will  challenge  Leucippe  and 
Melitta  to  the  ordeal;  this  he  threatens  in  the 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  205 

temple  (VIII.  ii)  ;  and  this  he  has  in  reserve 
throughout  the  second  trial.  The  moment  he 
actually  makes  the  challenge  (VIII.  xi)  he  ren- 
ders nugatory  the  three  preceding  chapters  of 
forensic  display :  his  own  attack  ( viii ) ,  the  Priest's 
defence  (ix)  and  Sopater's  supplementary  attack 
(x).  These  speeches  have  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  the  course  of  the  story ;  there  is  no  pre- 
tense that  the  decision  is  influenced  by  them;  in 
fact  the  decision  is  taken  out  of  court  altogether 
and  left  to  divine  judgment;  they  are  words, — 
words  and  nothing  more.  So  of  the  dubbio  (II. 
xxxv-xxxviii)  on  boys  and  women:  it  has  "noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  case."  Nothing  leads  to  it, 
nothing  depends  upon  it;  it  leads  to  no  choice, 
and  is  the  outcome  of  no  choice.  Clitophon  intro- 
duces it  merely  to  make  talk.72  All  these  irrele- 

Ta  The  difference  between  a  relevant  and  an  irrelevant 
debat  appears  neatly  if  the  above  be  contrasted  with  (a) 
the  argument  between  Clitophon  and  Melitta,  upon  her 
prayer  that  he  yield  to  her  (A.  T.,  V.  xv-xvi)  ;  (b)  the  argu- 
ment between  Theagenes  and  Chariclea  of  the  question 
whether  she  shall  disclose  her  identity  to  Hydaspes  (/£th., 
IX.  xxiii)  ;  (c)  the  argument  between  Daphnis  and  Dorco 
of  the  question  which  is  the  more  beautiful  (D.  &  C,  I. 
xv-xvii)  ; — decided  by  Chloe,  who  gives  the  victor  a  kiss. 
This  last  debat,  though  a  part  of  Courier's  fragment  and 
hence  unknown  to  the  Renaissance,  is  of  special  interest. 
The  dispute  itself — (the  familiar  amoeboeic  pastoral  con- 
test)— and  its  subject — (the  beauty  of  the  contestants) — 
are  of  the  old  world ;  the  judge — (a  young  girl  loved  by 
the  contestants),  and  the  reward — (her  favor) — are  of  the 
new  world  that  will  produce  the  Courts  of  Love. — A  regular 
\o\e-dubbio,  with  judge  and  decision  complete,  occurs  in 
lamblichus,  "  Babylonica,"  viii :  To  one  of  her  three  lovers 
a  girl  gives  her  cup,  to  another  the  wreath  from  her  head, 
to  the  third  a  kiss.  They  submit  to  an  old  man,  an  expert, 
the  question  which  has  been  most  favored.  He  decides  for 
the  third. 


206  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

vancies  of  plot, — and  the  list  is  not  exhaustive, — 
are  attributable  both  to  the  author's  desire  for 
rhetorical  display,  greater  than  that  of  Helio- 
dorus ;  and  to  the  equal  looseness  of  his  fabric, 
which  will  hold  in  its  mesh  as  much  of  the  for- 
tuitous, the  unexpected  and  the  immaterial  as  he 
may  be  tempted  to  insert.73 

Irrelevancies  of  Characterization  in  Achilles 
Tatius  have  been  discussed  (ante,  pp.  144-145). 
Their  most  frequent  form,  it  has  been  observed, 
is  the  needless  analysis  of  "  psychological "  com- 
monplace— another  kind  of  show-piece.  I  cite 
again  a  few  of  the  more  striking  instances:  (II. 
xxix)  Leucippe's  state  of  mind  under  her  moth- 
er's reproof.  (III.  xi)  Excessive  sorrow  chokes 
the  fountain  of  tears.  (III.  xiv)  A  tale  of  woe 
begets  sympathy,  and  sympathy  begets  friend- 
ship. (V.  xiii)  The  impression  left  by  the  image 
of  the  beloved.  Love  so  fills  the  lover  as  to  leave 
no  room  for  food!  (VI.  xix)  The  workings  of 
anger  and  desire.  (VII.  iv)  Why  tears  do  not 
follow  immediately  upon  grievous  news  (cf.  III. 
xi,  supra}.  (I.  vi)  Why  Clitophon  could  not 
sleep.  (VII.  vii)  Sympathetic  effect  of  tears  upon 
a  spectator  explained. 

Irrelevancies  of  Setting  have  also  been  dis- 

73  Achilles  Tatius  is  no  more  able  than  Heliodorus  to 
refrain  from  "  orations."  Besides  the  six  tirades  in  the 
two  trial-scenes,  already  cited  (VII.  vii-xi ;  VIII.  viii-x), 
we  have  Clitophon's  jingling  answer  to  Leucippe's  letter 
(V.  xx),  Melitta's  set  speech  on  Rumor  and  Calumny  (VI. 
x),  Charmides's  reply  to  Menelaus  (IV.  xi),  Leucippe's  fine 
invective  against  Thersander  and  Sosthenes  (VI.  xxi-xxii), 
and  Melitta's  last  impassioned  plea  to  Clitophon  (V.  xxv- 
xx  vi). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  2Oj 

cussed  (ante,  pp.  165-6,  169-176)  in  their  form 
of  geographical  and  descriptive  show-pieces.  I  re- 
capitulate these  and  other  "pictures  hors  texte." 

(Li)  The  double  harbor  of  Sidon.  The  paint- 
ing of  Europa.  (xii)  Charicles's  runaway  horse. 
(xv)  The  Garden. 

(II.  iii)  The  crystal  wine-cup,  (xi)  The  neck- 
lace and  the  purple  robe,  (xiv)  Geographical 
marvels  :  the  Sicilian  spring,  etc.  (xv)  The  sump- 
tuous sacrifice. 

(III.  i-iv)  The  storm,  the  shipwreck,  the  battle 
for  the  boats,  (vii-viii)  The  statue  of  Zeus;  the 
painting  of  Perseus  and  Andromeda;  the  paint- 
ing of  Prometheus. 

(IV.  xi-xiii)  The  Nile  and  the  Herdsmen's 
islands  (description  mostly  irrelevant — all  that 
matters  being  the  immediate  surroundings  of 
Nicochis). 

(V.  i-ii)  The  City  of  Alexandria,  (iii)  The 
painting  of  Philomela,  (vi)  The  Pharos. 

(VI.  vii)  Leucippe's  tears. 

Irrelevant  Science  and  Pseudo-Science. — Med'- 
icine:  (IV.  x)  Diagnosis  and  details  of  treatment 
of  Leucippe's  illness. 

Acoustics  and  Music:  (VIII.  vi)  Construction 
of  Pan's  pipes. 

Aesthetics:  (II.  xxxvi)  The  essence  of  pleas- 
ure is  evanescence. 

Psychology:  (VI.  vi)  The  mind  not  invisible, 
because  mirrored  in  the  face.  (And  see  Irrele- 
vancies  of  Characterisation}. 

Strategy:  (III.  xiii)  Strategic  development  of 
skirmish — heavy  troops,  light  troops,  cavalry; 


3O8  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

(IV.  xiii-xiv)  The  brigands'  stratagem  on  the 
causeway  at  Nicochis.  Both  of  these,  like  the 
similar  passages  in  Heliodorus,  are  not  so  much 
irrelevant  as  over-expanded.74 

Zoology:  (III.  xxv)  The  Phoenix;  (IV.  ii-iii) 
The  Hippopotamus ;  (iv-v)  The  Elephant;  (xix) 
The  Crocodile;  (I.  xviii)  The  Viper  and  the 
Lamprey. 

Physics:  (I.  xvii)  The  magnet  and  the  iron. 

Botany:  (I.  xvii)  The  Palm-tree  and  his  mate. 

Here  let  there  be  recalled  from  Heliodorus 
"  The  stone  Pantarbe,"  which  possesses  the  virtue 
of  protecting  its  wearer  from  fire  (U  221,  223; 
VIII.  ix,  xi),  and  "the  ^Ethiopian  Amethyst," 
which  "  will  not  lette  him  be  drunke  in  deede,  that 
weareth  him,  but  keepeth  him  sober  at  all  feastes." 
(U  134;  V.  xiii)  ;  as  well  as  "The  bird  Chara- 
drius"  and  "The  serpent  Basiliscus  "  (U  86-7; 
III.  vii-viii) .  For  Heliodorus  and  Achilles  Tatius 
possess  in  common  a  notable  trait,  which  is  of 
the  coming  world,  the  world  that  will  produce 
"  Bestiaries,"  "  Volucraries,"  "  Lapidaries  " — and 
Euphuism.  Already  these  authors  express  a  pe- 
culiar relation  between  the  supposed  phenomena 

t4  Certainly  they  are  so  if  we  apply  a  standard  furnished 
by  Achilles  Tatius  himself  at  IV.  xviii.  There,  in  a  single 
sentence,  he  tells  us  that  "  meanwhile," — tv  rovrtf  (i.  e., 
while  Leucippe  was  being  cured) — quite  incidentally,  as  it 
were,  the  robbers  were  exterminated,  and  the  Nile  ren- 
dered safe  for  travellers.  He  thus  cavalierly  dismisses  a 
process  the  unsuccessful  attempts  at  which  have  cost  an 
army,  and  have  extended  in  time  over  more  than  one  eighth 
of  his  whole  narrative  (III.  xiii ;  IV.  xviii),  a  book  and 
more.  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  he  is  tired  of  campaign- 
ing, and  would  rather  talk  about  something  else.  His  brevity 
here  is  as  disproportionate  as  tyas  his  former  detailed 
expansion. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  209 

of  nature  and  the  mental  life  of  man, — employ- 
ing such  phenomena  not  only  by  way  of  metaphor 
and  simile — the  storm  as  a  figure  of  wrath,  the 
fox  as  a  proverb  of  cunning — but  by  way  of  ex- 
planation and  argument.  Calasiris  suggests  to 
Charicles  that  Chariclea,  who  has  just  fallen  love- 
sick, has  been  fascinated  by  an  evil  eye.  An 
envious  eye,  he  says,  fills  the  air  with  subtle 
venom  which  penetrates  the  victim's  pores.  There 
are  analogies :  persons  are  often  infected  by  merely 
breathing  the  same  air  with  a  sick  person;  love 
enters  the  soul  through  the  eye.  "  I  will  bring 
for  examples  sake  some  reason  out  of  the  holy 
bookes,  gathered  of  the  consideration  of  nature. 
Charadrius  healeth  those  that  have  the  Kinges 
evill  [mistranslation:  should  be  jaundice'],  which 
birde  flieth  away  as  soone  as  any  that  hath  this 
disease  hath  spied  her,  and  turneth  her  taile 
toward  him,  shutteth  her  eyes.  Not  as  some  say 
because  she  would  not  help  him,  but  that  in  look- 
ing upon  him,  she  draweth  that  evill  disease  unto 
her  by  nature,  and  therefore  she  declineth  such 
sight  as  a  present  perill.  And  perhaps  you  have 
heard  how  the  serpent  Basiliscus,  with  his  onelie 
breath  and  looke,  doth  drye  up  and  corrupte  all 
that  it  passeth  by"  (U  86-7;  III.  vii-viii).75 

75  Helicdorus  almost  certainly  got  this  passage  from  Plu- 
tarch "  Quaest.  Conviv.,"  V.  vii,  2  (Teubner,  Vol.  4,  p.  201), 
where  the  same  virtue  and  habits  are  attributed  to  the 
Charadrius,  the  language  is  similar,  and  the  context  the 
same :  viz.  a  discussion  of  "  fascination,"  with  the  familiar 
phenomena  of  love  and  the  habits  of  the  Charadrius  ad- 
duced as  analogies.  From  Plutarch,  too,  the  "  Physiologus" 
in  all  probability  got  the  basis  for  its  account  of  Chara- 
drius :  brought  into  the  presence  of  any  sick  person,  the 

15 


210  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Clitophon's  citation  of  supposed  natural  phe- 
nomena is  likewise  argumentative:  (I.  xvii- 
xviii).  'The  palm-tree  languishes  for  his  mate; 
the  iron  is  drawn  to  the  magnet  by  desire;  the 
viper  and  the  lamprey  most  strangely  love ' :  ergo 
— so  runs  the  plain  conclusion — '  do  thou  love  me, 
Leucippe.' 

So  far  as  irrelevancy  is  not  just  the  unintended 
product  of  a  careless  unarchitectonic  habit  of 
mind,  so  far  as  it  is  adverted  to  and  intentional 
at  all,  it  rests  upon  a  common  basis  with  paradox. 
Both  defeat  expectation ; — the  one  by  turning  the 
expectant  mind  away  from  the  continuation  it 
looks  for,  and  toward  a  continuation  that  is  not 
essentially  connected  with  what  precedes;  the 
other  by  the  surprising  nature  of  its  own  content. 
In  both  its  phases, — irrelevancy  and  paradox — 
th:s  element  of  the  unexpected,  prominent  in  the 
form  as  in  the  matter  of  the  Greek  Romances, 
deserves  attention.  To  turn  aside  to  the  irrele- 
vant; to  strain  suspense  by  retarding  the  ex- 
pected outcome ;  to  introduce  by  the  way — all  un- 

bird  foretells  his  recovery  or  his  death  according  as  it  looks 
toward  him  or  away  from  him.  (Text  of  "  Physiologus  " 
in  Lauchert,  "  Geschichte  des  Physiologus,"  p.  232.)  If 
Lauchert  is  right  (p.  42)  in  dating  the  "  Physiologus  "  early 
in  the  second  century  A.D.,  it  preceded  Heliodorus. — 
Charadrius  is  a  favorite  of  the  Bestiaries.  Philippe  de 
Thaiin,  Guillaume  le  Clerc,  Hugues  de  St.  Victor,  the 
"  Younger  "  German  Physiologus,  "  Le  Bestiaire  d'Amour  " 
of  Richard  de  Fournival,  and  others,  give  an  account  of 
him  substantially  as  in  the  "  Physiologus."  See  Lauchert, 
op.  cit.;  Reinsch,  ed.  "  Le  Bestiaire — das  Thierbuch  des 
normannischen  Dichters  Guillaume  le  Clerc  " ;  Hippeau,  ed. 
"  Le  Bestiaire  d'Amour,"  text,  and  note  p.  112  ff,  which 
cites  other  authors.  The  passage  in  Heliodorus  is  not  men- 
tioned by  any  of  these  writers,  but  is  quoted  by  Elworthy, 
"  The  Evil  Eye,"  p.  33. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  211 

looked  for — as  many  bizarre,  ironical,  paradox- 
ical situations  and  dazzling  phrases  as  possible; 
and  finally  to  "spring"  an  issue  which  is  itself 
a  surprising  combination  of  opposites — all  these 
would  seem  to  be  consistent  results  of  adopting 
the  unexpected  as  the  principle  of  the  genre.  We 
proceed,  then,  to  the  consideration  of  paradox 
(  TO  TrapdSo^ov — "  the  contrary-to-expectation  "  ) . 
That  our  writers  seek  it  consciously  is  evident. 
They  are  continually  speaking  of  their  situations 
as  "new  and  strange"  (KCUVOS),  "against  rea- 
son" (7ra/3a\070f),  "  unthought  of"  (aSo/a/rc?), 
"against  all  expectation  or  hope"  (Trap1  e\TriSa 
iraa-av  or  Trapa  e\TriSas) ,  "  sudden,  impromptu  " 
(auToo-^e'Sto?) ,  "  unforeseen  "  (  aTr/DocrSo/ojTo?  ) , 
"  paradoxical "  or  "  contrary  to  expectation " 
(Trapa  Sdgav  and  Tra/jaSo^o?) .  So  of  the  fight  be- 
tween mariners  and  their  own  passengers — "a 
new  sort  of  sea-fight"  ("A.  T.,"  III.  iii)  ;  the 
sudden  marriage  of  Cnemon  to  the  daughter  of 
Nausicles  ("TEih."  VI.  viii)  ;  Leucippe's  several 
marvellous  escapes  ("A.  T.,"  VII.  xiii) ;  Daph- 
nis's  escape  from  pirates  and  shipwreck  ("  D.  & 
C.,"  I.  xxxi)  ;  the  surprising  war  and  the  equally 
surprising  peace  between  Methymne  and  Mytilene 
("D.  &  C.,"  III.  iii)  ;  the  kiss  Daphnis  got  from 
Chloe — the  result  of  his  lucky  admission  to  the 
house  of  Dryas  ("  D.  &  C.,"  III.  viii)  ;  the  unex- 
pected end  of  the  projected  marriage  between 
Clitophon  and  Calligone  ( "  A.  T.,"  I.  xviii ) .  Nor 
do  the  Romancers  ignore  the  part  played  by  For- 
tune in  bringing  about  such  situations.  Accord- 
ing to  Oroondates  ("  Aeth.,"  IX.  xxi),  it  is  lucky 


31  a  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

opportunity  (/rat/ob?)  which  enables  a  soldier  to 
perform  n&ya  TI  •  •  •  KOI  irapdSo^ov.  The  pirates 
(V.  xxix)  bring  from  their  ship  rich  tables,  ves- 
sels, and  fabrics ;  "  wealth  which  others  had  gath- 
ered by  dint  of  care  and  sparing,  but  which  was 
now  unsparingly  and  uncaringly  set  forth,  For- 
tune delivering  it  to  the  insolences  of  a  drinking- 
bout."  And  when  the  antitheses  of  this  same 
situation  issue  in  the  further  paradox  of  a  feast 
turning  into  a  fight  (I.  i),  why  then  it  is  6  Bai/juov 
(no  need  to  ask  which  divinity)  who  "shewed  a 
wonderful  sight  in  so  shorte  time,  bruing  bloude 
with  wine,  joyning  battaile  with  banketting,  min- 
gling indifferently  slaughters  with  drinkings,  and 
killings  with  quaffings  "  (U  10).  Clitophon,  hear- 
ing that  he  has  the  consent  of  Leucippe's  father 
to  marry  her,  "  cried  out  upon  Fortune's  caprice. 
.  .  .  After  death,  marriage;  after  the  dirge,  the 
nuptial  hymn!  And  what  a  bride  does  Fortune 
grant  me!  One  whose  corpse  she  has  not  even 
granted  me  entire!"  ("A.  T.,"  V.  xi).  Some 
other  paradoxes  and  antitheses  not  expressly  at- 
tributed to  Fortune  may  be  enumerated.  When 
Thyamis  assists  Theagenes  and  Chariclea,  "surely 
this  deed  was  not  without  much  glorie,  for  hee, 
who  was  their  maister  waited  upon  them,  and  he 
who  tooke  them  prisoners,  was  content  to  serve 
them"  (U  13-14).  Sisimithres  shows  Charicles 
the  jewels  belonging  to  Chariclea.  Upon  Chari- 
cles's  declining  to  buy  them  because  he  is  not  rich 
enough,  "Why  saide  he  [Sisimithres],  if  you  be 
not  able  to  buy  them  yet  are  you  able  to  take  them 
if  they  be  given  you.  .  .  .  I  will  give  you  all  these 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  213 

things,  if  you  will  take  them,  beside  another  gifte, 
which  farre  excelleth  them  all " — viz.,  Chariclea 
herself  (U  70-71).  Near  the  end,  Hydaspes  ad- 
dresses Chariclea  as  "  My  daughter  .  .  .  whose 
beautie  is  peerless  to  no  purpose,  and  hast  found 
thy  parents  in  vaine,  which  hast  in  an  ill  time 
hapned  upon  thine  owne  countrey,  worse  to  thee 
then  any  strange  lande,  who  hast  bene  safe  in 
other  countreyes,  but  art  in  danger  of  death  in 
thine  owne"  (U  272-3).  Chariclea's  own  para- 
doxes and  self-contradictions  in  this  scene  (X. 
xxii)  have  been  quoted  (ante,  p.  140  q.  v.}  ;  and 
at  the  close  (X.  xxxviii),  the  gods,  it  is  said, 
"made  very  contrary e  things  agree,  and  joyned 
sorrow  and  mirth,  teares  and  laughter  together, 
and  turned  fearefull  and  terrible  things  into  a 
joyfull  banquette  in  the  ende.  Many  that  weapt 
beganne  to  laugh,  and  such  as  were  sorrow  full  to 
rejoice,  when  they  founde  that  they  sought  not 
for,  and  lost  that  they  hoped  to  finde ;  and  to  be 
shorte,  the  cruell  slaughters  which  were  looked 
for  every  momente,  were  turned  into  holy  sacri- 
fice" (U288). — A  paradoxical  antithetical  ending 
which  is,  deliberately,  one  feels,  set  over  against 
the  paradoxical  antithetical  beginning:  in  the  one, 
feasting  turned  into  slaughter ;  in  the  other, 
slaughter  turned  into  feasting. 

A  special  case  of  paradox  is  what  may,  very 
broadly,  be  termed  Irony.  The  unexpected  ful- 
filment of  an  oracle  or  a  dream,  the  bringing 
about  of  an  event  by  the  very  means  taken  to 
prevent  it,  the  prevention  or  cure  of  one  evil  by 
another,  the  turning  of  an  apparent  evil  into  a 


214  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

blessing,  or  the  reverse,  these  and  other  such 
contrasts  possess  an  intenser,  a  more  concentrated 
flavor,  as  it  were,  than  the  cases  just  noticed.  An 
event  the  occurrence  of  which  has  merely  not 
been  expected,  is  less  piquant  than  an  event  which 
has  actively  been  designed  not  to  occur.  When 
Thyamis  dreams  that  Isis  gives  him  Chariclea 
with  the  words  "  Though  you  have  her,  you  shall 
not  have  her;  though  you  kill  your  guest,  you 
shall  not  kill  her," — he  interprets  the  dream  (it- 
self paradoxical  enough)  in  a  way  to  suit  his 
hopes.  Then,  by  his  own  action  in  concealing 
Chariclea  in  the  cave  for  safety,  and  in  stabbing 
Thisbe  supposing  her  to  be  Chariclea,  he  fulfils 
the  dark  saying  (I.  xviii,  xxviii-xxxi)  ,76  The  sor- 
ceress on  the  battle-field  at  Bessa,  in  her  attempt 
to  frustrate  her  dead  son's  prediction  by  killing 
the  witnesses  of  her  necromancy,  is  herself  killed, 
and  so  accomplishes  the  prediction  (VI.  xv).78 
Taken  by  the  Ethiopians,  Theagenes  and  Chari- 
clea are  escorted  "  in  captive  guise,  by  those 
destined  ere  long  to  be  their  subjects  "  (B.  204, 
VIII.  xvii).  Shortly  after,  their  captors  "fitted 
for  them  fetters  of  gold.  Theagenes  laughed 
and  said :  Good  lorde,  whence  commeth  this  trim 
chaunge?  Truely,  fortune  flattereth  us  wonder- 
fully, we  chaunge  yron  for  gold,  and  in  prison 
we  are  inriched,  so  that  wee  bee  worth  more 
in  our  bandes  "  (IX.  ii;  U  234) — a  speech  iron- 
ical in  the  ordinary  sense,  and  aware,  too,  of  the 
agency  of  Fortune  in  bringing  about  ironical 

"  These  are  cases  of  "  dramatic  irony "  (cf.  e.  g.,  the 
plot  of  the  "Oedipus  Tyrannus"),  and  may  be  credited  to 
the  influence  of  tragedy  upon  Heliodorus. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  215 

situations.  In  the  great  scene  of  reunion  under 
the  walls  of  Memphis  (VIII.  vii)  it  has  already 
been  observed  (ante,  p.  1 88)  how  the  very  course 
which  Calasiris  took  to  frustrate  the  oracle — viz., 
his  retirement  to  Delphi — brought  him  in  contact 
with  the  fortunes  of  Theagenes  and  Chariclea, 
which  in  turn  took  him  back  to  Memphis  at  the 
appointed  time.77  The  happy  ending  comes  about 
most  ironically  of  all.  In  order  that  Theagenes 
may  be  saved  from  the  sacrifice,  the  fact  that  he 
is  Chariclea's  husband  must  be  revealed,  and  the 
priest  Charicles  does  reveal  it ;  but  his  disclosure 
takes  the  form  of  the  capital  charge  that  The- 
agenes has  violated  the  altar  of  Apollo  by  ab- 
ducting Chariclea!  Thus  the  fact  which  saves 
Theagenes  appears  in  a  form  which  threatens 
to  ruin  him  (X.  xxxvi-xxxvii). — In  Longus 
there  is  very  little  irony, — in  fact,  very  little  place 
for  it.  The  episode  of  the  Methymnaeans,  which 
at  first  leads  to  the  beating  of  Daphnis  and  the 
abduction  of  Chloe  (II.  xiv,  xx),  afterward  helps 
to  bring  about  the  young  people's  happiness ;  as 
the  money  lost  by  the  Methymnaeans  enables 
Daphnis  to  sue  successfully  for  Chloe's  hand 
(III.  xxvii-xxxii).  Megacles  suffers  "the  irony 
of  Fate  "  in  that,  as  he  says,  "  Wealth  began  to 
pour  in  upon  me  when  I  had  no  heir  to  enjoy 
it ; "  moreover,  the  paradox  of  his  dreams  is  unex- 
pectedly fulfilled :  "  as  if  wishing  to  make  a  mock 
of  me,  the  gods  are  continually  sending  dreams 
by  night,  signifying,  forsooth,  that  a  ewe  will 
make  me  a  father"  (B  345;  IV.  xxxv) — In 

n  See  p.  214  n.  76. 


2l6  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

"  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  "  irony  appears  often, 
but  on  rather  a  small  scale:  there  is  no  large 
grasp  of  events  extending  over  broad  times  and 
spaces, — like  that  which,  in  the  "^Ethiopica," 
brings  Calasiris  to  Memphis,  or  balances  the  end 
of  the  story  against  the  beginning.  Achilles 
Tatius  puts  closer  together  the  expectation  and  its 
defeat.  The  event  portended  by  the  eagle  (II. 
xiii) — i.  e.,  the  abduction  of  the  bride — takes 
place  at  the  sacrifice  intended  to  avert  it  (II. 
xviii).  Whereas  Panthea's  dream  (II.  xxiii) 
imported  the  actual  disembowelment  of  Leucippe, 
and  by  robbers,  the  event  is  in  fact  only  an  ap- 
parent disembowelment,  which  is  performed  by 
friends,  and  is  the  means  of  delivering  her  from 
the  robbers  (III.  xv,  xx-xxii).  In  the  same 
way,  her  apparent  decapitation,  really  the  de- 
capitation of  another  woman,  leads  to  the  quarrel 
between  Chaereas  and  the  pirates,  which  issues 
in  the  murder  of  Chaereas,  and  in  Leucippe's 
escape  from  him  (V.  vii ;  VIII.  xvi).  Her 
mental  derangement  is  another  blessing  in  dis- 
guise, in  that  it  effectually  prevents  the  prosecu- 
tion of  Charmides's  designs  against  her  (IV. 
ix  ff.). 

There  are  a  few  instances  of  verbal  irony. 
Satyrus  remarks,  in  relating  how  Clitophon  has 
declined  Melitta's  offers  (V.  xi),  "I  suppose  he 
thinks  Leucippe  will  come  to  life  again," — which 
is  virtually  what  does  happen  (V.  xvii).  When 
Sosthenes  tells  Leucippe  that  all  is  going  well — 
that  Thersander  is  madly  in  love  with  her  and 
may  possibly  even  marry  her — ,  the  irony  of  her 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  217 

reply  "  May  the  gods  requite  you  with  equal 
joy ! "  seems  to  be  quite  lost  upon  him  (VI.  xi- 
xii).  Exceedingly  bizarre,  whether  in  any 
proper  sense  ironical  or  not,  is  the  situation  where 
Clitophon  is  tried,  and  upon  his  own  confession 
is  condemned,  for  the  murder  of  a  person  whom 
he  loves,  who  is  alive  all  the  time,  and  who  dur- 
ing part  of  the  time  is  actually  present  in  court 
(VII.  vi-xiii;  VIII.  ix). 

Certain  special  situations  containing  the  ma- 
terials for  antithesis  and  paradox  are  of  such 
frequent  occurrence  in  the  Greek  Romances  as  to 
deserve  particular  mention.  Of  these,  one  is  the 
contrast  between  marriage  and  death.  Chari- 
cles'  daughter  died  on  her  wedding-night:  "The 
marriage  Song,  not  yet  ended,  was  turned  to 
mourning ;  and  she  was  carried  out  of  her  Bride- 
bedde  into  her  grave:  and  the  tapers  that  gave 
her  light  at  her  wedding,  did  now  serve  to  kindle 
her  funerall  fire"78  (U  69-70;  II.  xxix).  Hy- 
daspes  uses  almost  the  same  words  to  Chariclea : 
"  follow  thy  father,  who  cannot  provide  a  mar- 
riage for  thee,  nor  bring  thee  to  bedde  in  any 
costlie  bowers,  but  make  thee  ready  for  sacrifice, 
and  beare  before  thee,  not  such  tapers  as  are 
used  at  bridalles,  but  appointed  for  sacrifice " 
(U  272-3,  X.  xvi).  Chariclea  on  the  pyre  is 
said  to  lie  like  a  bride  upon  a  fiery  bed  (VIII. 
ix).  To  Thyamis,  Chariclea  dissemblingly  says: 
"  We  have  good  cause  ...  to  accompt  ourselves 
happy,  because  some  God  hath  brought  us  into 
your  hands,  where  those  who  feared  death,  have 

n  Cf.  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  IV.  v,  particularly  the  speeches 
of  Capulet ;  and  see  Sophocles,  "  Antigone,"  passim. 


21 8  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

now  space  to  thinke  on  marriage"  (U  32;  I. 
xxii).  In  "  Clitophon  and  Leucippe,"  the  father 
of  the  dead  youth  Charicles  laments  over  his 
son's  body:  "When,  my  son,  will  you  wed? 
when  shall  I  make  your  nuptial  sacrifice,  o  luck- 
less bridegroom?  The  grave  is  your  bridal  bed, 
death  your  marriage,  mourning  your  shout  of 
Hymen,  and  this  dirge  your  nuptial  hymn.  .  .  . 
O  fatal  torches,  not  of  marriage,  but  of  the 
tomb!  "  (A.  T.,  I.  xiii).  This  gives  the  imagery 
complete,  with  the  antitheses  presented  by  the 
situation  all  fully  developed ;  so  that  it  will  suffice 
merely  to  list  the  four  other  similar  passages. 
Apostrophizing  Leucippe,  who  has  been  captured 
by  robbers,  Clitophon  cries,  'Aim  S^v^evaimv  TI<? 
ffoi  TOV  Oprjvov  aSei  (III.  x).  Andromeda  in  the 
picture,  exposed  to  her  death,  is  "  robed  like  a 
bride"  (VIII.  vii).  Clitophon's  lament  for  Leu- 
cippe when  he  receives  word  that  her  father  con- 
sents to  their  marriage,  has  been  quoted  (ante, 
p.  212;  V.  xi :  Mera  Odvarov  7a/iot,  ftera  Oprjvov 
vpevaioi  KT\.}.  The  same  contrast  forms  the 
basis  of  Melitta's  jest-in-earnest,  Kevordfyiov  /j,ev 
<yap  elSov,  Kevoydpiov  B'ov  (V.  xiv). 

A  second  stock  rhetorical  antithesis  is  found  in 
the  contrast,  under  various  aspects  and  circum- 
stances, of  land  and  water.79  Gorgias,  who  in- 

"  In  the  form,  "  a  sea-fight  on  land  and  a  land-battle  at 
sea,"  this  antithesis  was  one  of  the  traditional  purple  patches 
of  Greek  and  Roman  rhetoric.  Norden,  "  Antike  Kunst- 
prosa,"  pp.  385,  437,  gives  its  history,  beginning  with 
Gorgias,  and  citing  no  less  than  thirteen  imitators,  among 
whom  "  endlich  hat  Himerios  eine  wahrhaft  diabolische 
Freude  daran  " !  Akin  to  it  is  the  combination  of  water 
with  fire  in  the  Sicilian  spring  (A.  T.,  II.  xiv).  "  Un  autre 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  219 

vented  it,  applied  it  to  Xerxes'  battle  with  the 
Greeks.  In  the  "yEthiopica,"  the  Nile  having  been 
admitted  to  the  moat  around  Syene,  "  thus  was 
Syene  made  an  Island,  and  a  citie  which  standeth 
in  the  middest  of  a  country,  was  compassed  about 
with  water,  and  beaten  upon  soare  with  the  waves 
of  Nylus.  .  .  .  Truely  this  was  a  strange  sight, 
that  a  shippe  should  sayle  from  wall  to  wall,  and  a 
Marryner  shoulde  practice  his  skill  in  the  middest 
of  the  drye  lande,  and  a  boate  be  rowed  where 
the  plowe  was  woont  to  worke.  And  although 
the  toile  of  warre  ever  deviseth  new  thinges,  yet 
then  invented  it  the  straungest  thing,  when  it 
made  those  that  were  in  ships,  fight  with  them 
that  stoode  upon  the  walles,  and  joyned  two 
armies  by  sea  and  land  together"  (U  236-7;  IX. 
iv-v).  The  corresponding  passage  in  Achilles 
Tatius,  describing  the  Nile  in  flood,  is  enorm- 
ously elaborated,  following  into  detail  the  con- 
trast between  nautical  operations  and  utensils  on 
the  one  hand,  and  agricultural  operations  and 
utensils  on  the  other.  It  bristles  with  antitheses 
(A.  T.  IV.  xii).  So  of  the  situation  of  Tyre 
on  an  island  reached  by  a  causeway :  "  Strange 
sight — a  city  at  sea  and  an  island  ashore"  (II. 
xiv).  Again,  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the 

de  nos  Poetes,  repliqua  Philanthe,  dit,  en  faisant  la  descrip- 
tion d'un  naufrage  cause  par  1'embrasement  du  navire : 
'  Soldats  &  matelots  roules  confusement,  Par  un  double 
malheur  perissent  doublement ;  L'un  se  brule  dans  1'onde, 
au  feu  1'autre  se  noye,  Et  tout  en  meme  temps  de  deux 
morts  sont  la  proye.' — Ce  vers,  '  L'un  se  brule  dans  1'onde, 
au  feu  1'autre  se  noye,'  ressemble  assez  au  votre,  '  Doute  si 
1'oiseau  nage,  ou  si  le  poisson  vole.' "  Bouhours,  "  La 
Maniere  de  Bien  Penser  dans  les  Ouvrages  d'Esprit."  3rae 
Dialogue,  pp.  346-7  (Paris,  1695). 


22O  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

battle  with  the  Herdsmen  brought  about  "  a  new 
sort  of  disaster — a  shipwreck  but  nowhere  a  ship. 
Both  these  events  were  new  and  unthinkable :  a 
land-battle  in  the  water,  and  a  shipwreck  on  the 
land!"  (IV.  xiv). 

The  third  of  these  tricks  of  rhetoric,  charge- 
able, like  the  second,  to  Gorgias,  is  the  bold 
metaphor  that  is  famous  because  Longinus  con- 
demned it  (De  Subl.,  III.  2)  :  "Vultures, — living 
tombs"  (Fuvre?  efi^frv^oi  ra<£oi).  This  would 
naturally  come  to  be  applied  to  any  living  thing 
that  had  devoured  another.  Thus,  in  Ovid  Met., 
VI.  445,  Tereus  calls  himself  the  tomb  of  his 
son  Itys.80  Achilles  Tatius  (III.  v)  makes 
Clitophon,  as  he  floats  on  the  wreckage  with  Leu- 
cippe,  pray  to  Poseidon :  '  Let  one  wave  over- 
whelm us,  or  one  fish  swallow  us  both,  and  be 
our  common  tomb.'  Again  (III.  xvi)  Clitophon 
laments  Leucippe's  entrails,  which  he  supposes 
to  have  been  eaten  by  the  robbers :  37  r&v 
aTT\dy)(V(av  trov  ra(f)r)  Xycrratv  yeyove  rpo^irj — a 
conceit  all  the  more  disgusting  because  gratui- 
tous. 

It  is  evident  that  we  have  here  entered  the 

80  Cited  by  Norden,  op.  cit.,  385,  with  numerous  other 
occurrences  of  the  metaphor.  In  the  "  Gerusalemme  Libe- 
rata  "  (XII.  78-79),  Tancred  about  to  return  to  Clorinda's 
corpse  fancies  that  it  may  have  been  devoured  by  a  wild 
beast :  if  so,  he  wishes  that  he  may  be  devoured  by  the 
same,  and  rest  with  her  in  one  tomb !  Bouhours,  op.  cit., 
3me  Dialogue,  p.  393,  discusses  this  and  other  conceits. 
The  vitality  of  Gorgias's  metaphor  is  illustrated  by  a  whim- 
sical story  in  McClure's  Magazine  for  March,  1909,  "  Bibi 
Steinfeld's  Hunting,"  p.  480  ff:  a  widow  whose  husband 
has  been  eaten  by  a  lion  captures  the  animal,  keeps  him 
alive,  and  places  about  his  neck  a  collar  inscribed  with  an 
epitaph  which  ends  "  Ruhe  Sanft." 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  221 

province  of  wholly  artificial  rhetoric.  Together 
with  circumstances  or  events  which  by  their 
nature  afford  the  material  of  the  unexpected, — a 
contrast,  a  bit  of  irony,  an  antithesis,  a  sur- 
prise— ,  we  now  find  events  and  circumstances 
which,  commonplace  in  themselves,  are  by  arti- 
fice analysed  into  antithetical  elements,  and 
forced  to  yield  up  a  conceit.  Such  is  the  situa- 
tion of  Tyre — a  city  on  an  island  connected  with 
the  mainland  by  a  causeway.  What  of  it? 
Nothing; — except  to  a  mind  already  infected  by 
Gorgias's  conceit  of  '  Land  versus  Water,'  and 
desirous  of  emulating  it.  But  that  mind  quickly 
cuts  in  two  the  single  concept  of  the  situation  of 
Tyre,  and  then  sets  over  against  each  other  the 
results  of  the  dichotomy.  We  turn  to  a  brief 
consideration  of  such  artifices,  employed  where 
material  for  the  unexpected  is  giving  out,  and 
the  conceit  has  become  largely  verbal. 

Two  chief  types  have  already  been  exemplified. 
In  the  one,  which  may  be  called  "  Oxymoron," 
X  and  Y,  being  opposite,  or  at  least  disconnected, 
in  fact  or  in  their  associations  (like  land  and 
water,  or  death  and  marriage),  are  combined. 
In  the  other,  which  may  be  called  "Antithesis" 
proper,  X  and  Y  are  set  over  against  each  other, 
and  kept  apart.  The  two  types,  though  distinct 
enough  at  their  centres,  merge  at  their  edges. 
Where,  for  instance,  X  a  noun  is  modified  by  Y 
an  adjective,  the  resulting  concept,  though  self- 
contradictory,  is  single :  this  is  a  clear  case  of 
Oxymoron  (e.  g.,  the  "freezing  flame,"  "burn- 
ing ice,"  "sweet  pain,"  and  "grievous  joy"  of 


222  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

the  Petrarchists).  Where  X  and  Y  are  in  sepa- 
rate sentences  or  clauses,  or  where,  in  the  same 
sentence  or  clause,  they  are  avowedly  contrasted, 
the  case  is  an  equally  clear  one  of  Antithesis  (e. 
g.,  "the  marriage  Song  .  .  .  was  turned  to 
mourning"  ante,  p.  217).  On  the  border  line, — 
as  where  X  in  a  phrase  modifies  a  clause  which 
ends  in  Y — occur  numerous  cases  which  may 
plausibly  be  classified  either  way.  The  device 
itself  being  largely  verbal,  these  syntactical  dis- 
tinctions are  not  so  unimportant  as  they  may 
seem.  That  they  are,  in  fact,  essential,  will  ap- 
pear when  to  the  trick  of  Antithesis  and  Oxy- 
moron we  find  the  rhetorician  adding  Balance  in 
grammatical  structure.  The  following  cases,81 
then,  are  arranged,  roughly,  according  to  the  in- 
creasing syntactical  and  logical  separation  of 
X  and  Y. 

(i)  X  noun  modified  by  Y  adjective. 

A.  T.,  V.  i.  In  Alexandria  there  is  an 
itTroBrjfiia — a  stay-at-home  migration;  (either  be- 
cause of  the  great  population,  which  would  con- 
stitute as  it  were  an  intramural  Volkerwanderung, 
or  because  of  the  great  size  of  the  city,  which 

81  Nearly  all  from  Achilles  Tatius,  who  very  fully  exem- 
plifies this  estilo  alto.  The  passages  given  here,  which  were 
gathered  independently,  are  abundantly  confirmed  by  those 
quoted  and  referred  to  in  Norden,  op.  cit.,  434-442.  Nor- 
den  also  corroborates  my  opinion  that  Heliodorus  is  less 
artificial  in  style  than  either  Longus  or  Achilles  Tatius 
("  Heliodorus  ist  ausser  Xenophon  v.  Ephesos  am  spar- 
samsten  mit  seinen  Kunstmitteln."  Ib.,  439",  and  cf.  435*)  ; 
and  his  quotations  and  citations  from  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe  " 
exhibiting  the  same  rhetorical  devices  make  it  needless  for 
me  to  extend  the  present  discussion  specifically  to  Longus. 
Achilles  Tatius  may  serve  as  the  type  of  the  rhetorician- 
romancer. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  223 

would  allow  of  a  journey  abroad,  as  it  were, 
though  the  traveller  remained  at  home.) 

A.  T.,  II.  ii.  "What  is  this  purple  water? 
Where  did  you  get  this  sweet  blood?" 

A.  T.,  III.  vii.  The  painter  has  adorned  An- 
dromeda €Vfjidp(f)(a  <f)d/3<p. 

A.  T.,  IV.  xii.  The  flooded  banks  of  the  Nile 
become,  so  to  speak,  an  arable  sea  —  TreXayos  yecop- 


(2)  X  noun  subject  of  Y  verb. 

A.  T.,  VI.  vii.  When  a  beautiful  eye  weeps, 
the  tears  smile.  (TO,  Be  Sdtcpva  •  •  •  7eAcf.  ) 

A.  T.,  II.  vii.  Leucippe  must  carry  a  bee  upon 
her  lips  :  full  of  honey,  her  kisses  sting:  nrpwa-Kei 
trov  ra  (f>t\^/J,ara. 

A.  T.,  II.  xxxiv.  Menelaus  at  the  death  of  his 
favorite  feels  <W5  av  a\Xo<?  rt?  cnroOdvoi  £<MZ>. 

(3)  X   verb  modified   by   Y   adverb,  or   its 
equivalent. 

A.  T.,  V.  xiv.  Melitta  jested  in  earnest  —  er 


A.   T.,   V.   xx.     Clitophon's   answer  to   Leu- 
cippe's  letter  :  I  am  unhappy  in  my  happiness  : 


Panthea  to  Leucippe  :  a8o£et? 
ev  ol?  Syo-ru^et?. 

(4)  X  verb  takes  object  Y  noun. 

^th.,  VI.  viii;  U  162-3.  "  Lette  us  singe 
teares  .  .  .  and  daiince  lamentations":  acro)- 
JJLGV  •  •  •  Bprfvovs  Kal  7001*9  VTrop%r]a'cb[j,€0a. 

A.  T.,  III.  x.  rj8r)  rov  Opfjvov  e^op^a-0/J.ai. 
ibid.  fjL€fji(f)OfjLai  trou  Trj  <$i\.av6pa>irlq. 

A.  T.,  IV.  ix.     "  We  fear  even  good  luck  "  : 


324  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

(5)  X  and  Y  adjectives  both  modify  the  same 
noun. 

A.  T.,  V.  xx.  "  I  see  you  present  as  if  ab- 
sent " :  ere  •  •  •  Trapovcrav  &>?  cnroSrjfjLova-av  opot. 

(6)  X  (noun)  is  said  to  be  the  Y  (noun)  of 
x    (noun  closely  associated  with  X — e.  g.,  the 
genus  of  which  X  is  a  species,  the  material  of 
which  X  is  made,  etc.). 

A.  T.,  II.  i.     The  rose  is  the  eye  of  flowers — 
avOeav,82  and  the  blush  of  the  meadow 

epvQr]fj,a.82 

A.  T.,  I.  xv.  The  peacock's  tail  shows  flowers 
of  feathers — avOr)62  TrrepStv. 

(7)  X  and  Y  verbs  have  the  same  subject  or 
object. 

A.  T.,  V.  iii.  Philomela  and  Procne  in  the  pic- 
ture simultaneously  laugh  and  fear:  yeXwo-i  8' 
afj.a  Kal  <j>o{3ovvTai,. 

A.  T.,  III.  x.  ^fta?  Be  ffdxracra  paXXov  cnreK- 
reivas. 

82 "  Je  ne  vous  parle  pas  du  Cavalier  Marin,  .  .  .  qui 
appelle  la  rose  I'aril  du  printemps  la  prunelle  de  I'Amour, 
la  pourpre  des  prairies,  la  fleur  des  autres  fleurs ;  le  ros- 
signol,  une  voix  emplumee,  un  son  volant,  une  plume  har- 
monieuse ;  les  etoiles.  les  lampes  d'or  du  firmament,  les 
flambeaux  des  funerailles  du  jour,  ...  les  fleurs  immor- 
telles des  campagnes  celestes.  (Quotes  the  phrases  in  Italian, 
but  without  giving  references  to  the  passages  in  Marino. 
Italics  mine.)  .  .  .  Selon  votre  gout,  ajouta-t-il  (viz., 
Eudoxe  to  Philanthe),  c'est  quelque  chose  de  fort  beau 
que  ce  qu'on  a  dit  d'une  belle  chanson,  que  c'est  un  air  qui 
vole  avec  des  ailes  de  miel ;  de  la  queue  du  Paon,  que 
c'est  une  prairie  de  plumes;  and  de  1'Arc-en-ciel,  que  c'est 
le  ris  du  ciel  qui  pleure,  un  arc  sans  fleches,  ou  qui  n'a  que 
de  traits  de  lumiere,  &  qui  ne  frappe  que  les  yeux. — Ah  que 
cela  est  joli,  s'ecria  Philanthe !  " — Bouhours,  op.  cit.,  3me 
Dialogue,  pp.  353~4,  355. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  2  25 

A.  T.,  II.  xxii.  The  gnat  speaks:  '£70)  Be 
vrapwv  ov  Trdpeifit  •  ofiov  Be  /cal  e/jeiryo)  Kal  /ueW. 

(8)  X  and  Y  nouns  both  predicates  of  one  sub- 
stantive verb. 

A.  T.,  II.  xxii.  The  gnat  again:  crd\7ri<yj;  Be 
poi  teal  fieXos  TO  oro'/ia.  •  atar1  elftl  real  av\.r)Tr)S  Kal 
ro^drrjf.  ' Eifjiavrov  8'  ot'crTo?  /cal  TO^OV  ^Lvo^ai. 

(9)  X  subject  and  Y  object  of  same  verb. 

JEth.,  II.  iv.  Theagenes  laments  the  sup- 
posed corpse  of  Chariclea :  ot/*ot,  crttoTra?,  Kal  TO 
/jiavriKov  eKeivo  Kal  Oeijyopov  aro^a  eiyr)  Kare^ei, 
Kal  ^o'0o?  rrjv  7rvp(f)dpoi>  Karei\Tj(f)ev.  '  Silence  pos- 
sesses that  prophetic  mouth;  and  darkness  has 
seized  her  that  bore  the  flame'). 

(10)  X  in  a  phrase  modifies  a  clause  contain- 
ingY. 

y£th.,  V.  xxiv ;  U  143-4.  At  the  approach  of 
the  pirates,  "all  the  hulke  was  moved  .  .  .  and 
in  a  calme  iveathcr  had  it  a  great  tempest" :  ev  re 
yaXrjvr)  K\vB(0vos  eveTrXrja'TO. 

Ibid.  xxv.  U  145.  After  the  encounter  be- 
tween the  pirates  and  the  crew,  there  followed 
Tro'Xe/io?  6/97019  6  ^aXeTTWTaTO?,  elpr)vr)S  ovdpaTt 
vdda)  7rapa\vdfj.evo<>,  (JvvOriK^  fiapvTepas  TrXeov  rj 
T^?  /t*a%^9  opi£ofjievr)s :  "  for  all  the  counterfeited 
name  of  peace,  it  was  cruell  warre  in  deed,  by 
reason  of  the  truce  .  .  .  more  intolerable  than 
the  battaile  it  selfe." 

A.  T.,  I.  xiv.  Clinias  to  the  horse  of  Chari- 
cles :  '  In  the  very  act  of  being  praised,  you  killed 
him  ' :  <ri>  B'  ctTreKretvas  eTraivovpevos. 

JEih.,  I.  xxix.  Cnemon  concealing  Chariclea 
in  the  cave,  weeps  '  because  he  has  delivered  over 
16 


226  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

to  night  and  darkness  that  most  radiant  thing 
among  men  —  Chariclea  '  :    cm  •  •  •  TO  c/xu 
ev    avOpwTrois    Xapi/c\eiav    VVKTI    KCU 


(u)  X  noun  receives  attribute  of  Y  noun,  and 
Y  receives  attribute  of  X. 

A.  T.,  II.  xiv.  A  city  at  sea  and  an  island 
ashore. 

A.  T.,  IV.  xiv.  A  land-battle  in  the  water  and 
a  shipwreck  on  the  land. 

(12)  X  in  sub-clause  modifies  main  clause  con- 
taining Y. 

A.  T.,  IV.  ix.  *fl  8vo-TV%eis  ^/zefc  orav  evTV%r)- 
<rci)/j.ev. 

A.  T.,  II.  xxxvi.  oaov  eXarTOvrat  [sc.  vj  f) 
TO>  %pov(0,  TOCTOVTOV  et?  fj.e'yeQos  e/cretVerat 

A.  T.,  IV.  xii.  *O  TreTrXeftfa?,  ^ureuei?,  KOI  ft 
^)i/Teuei9,  TOUTO  TreXayos  yewpyovfjievov.  "  Where 
you  have  sailed,  you  sow  ;  and  where  you  sow  is 
an  arable  sea." 

(13)  X  and  Y  in  co-ordinate  clauses  or  sen- 
tences. 

A.  T.,  I.  xv.  eyivero  TCO  KITTO)  o^ijfjLa  ro  $VTOV, 
ar€(f>avo<t  S'  6  /ctrro?  TOU  <f)VTOv. 

A  .T.,  II.  xxxvii.  'Hpd(T0rj  (sc.  6  Zew)  fj,€ipa- 
KIQV  <3>/3vyo?,  awijyayev  ew  ovpavov  TOV  <&pvya  •  TO 
Se  /coXXo?  T<av  yvvaitcwv  avrov  TOV  Ata  fcartfyayev 
e£  ovpavov. 

A.  T.,  III.  vi.  eoiKf   TO    0€a/j,a  [the  picture  of 
Andromeda],  el  /J-ev  els  TO  /eaXXo?  aTTiSot?,  ayd\- 
fj,aTt  icaivfi,  el  S'  et?  ra  Sea^a  /cal  TO  /C?)TO<?,  avTO- 
Ta(j)Q). 
.,  IV.  viii;  U  108.     (End  of  Persina's  in- 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  227 

scription  upon  Chariclea's  fillet).  "That  I  have 
written,  if  thou  live,  shall  be  tokens  to  thee  (my 
daughter  in  vaine  beautifull,  which  by  thy  beauty 
procured  my  blame)  of  thy  birth.  But  if  thou 
die  .  .  .  they  shall  serve  to  bury  thee  "  :  el  fiev 
TrepKrcodijeis,  yva>  pier  /AUTO,  •  el  §',  oirep  Kal  atcorjv 

\d6oi  Tr]V  €fJLT)V,  eTTLTV^Qia. 

A.  T.,  V.  viii.  Clitophon  over  the  headless 
trunk  supposed  to  be  Leucippe's  :  "  In  the  guise 
of  thy  greater  part  (*.  ?.,  the  trunk),  there  is  left 
to  me  thy  smaller  part  ;  but  the  sea,  in  the  little  it 
possesses  (i.  e.,  the  head),  has  thee  all."  Mixpov 
poi  crov  pepos  tcaTaXeXenrrat  ev  ox/ret  rov  pci^ovos  • 
avrrf  [sc.  r)  OdXatrcra]  8'  ev  0X176)  TO  irav  <rov 
fcparel. 

(14)  X  and  Y  expressly  compared  (includes 
last  example  in  13). 

A.  T.,  I.  xv.  'Ai're'A.a/ATre  8'  77  T&V  avQeav  64a 
Trj  TWV  opvidcav  %poia. 

D.  &  C.,  I.  xxxii.  Chloe's  bath,  which  had  re- 
doubled her  charms,  seemed  to  Daphnis  more 
formidable  than  the  ocean,  from  which  he  had 
just  escaped  :  eSo'/cet  TO  \ovTpbv  elvai  rf)f  0a\d<r<rr)<i 


A.  T.,  V.  xiii.  Tloiov  yelp  otyov  pot  7ro\vTe\fr; 
r)  TTOto?  ol^o?  Ti/itwre/JO?  TT}?  <rf)<;  o^e&)9. 

(15)  X  and  Y  once  fairly  apart,  several  other 
tricks  of  antithesis  can  be  brought  into  play,  and 
of  these  Achilles  Tatius  avails  himself  to  the  full. 
It  is,  for  example,  a  mannerism  of  his  to  say  that 
X  and  Y  (persons,  things,  feelings)  rivalled  each 
other,  neither  gaining  the  victory.  So  of  Alex- 
andria (V.  i)  :  its  population  vies  with  its  size, 


228  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

its  size  rivals  its  beauty,  and  its  beauty  rivals  the 
beauty  of  the  sky.  Clinias  and  the  father  of 
Charicles  vie  with  each  other  in  grief  (I.  xiv)  ; 
Leucippe's  beauty  rivals  that  of  the  garden  (I. 
xix)  ;  the  flowers  rival  the  peacock's  plumes  (I. 
xv)  ;  the  odors  of  incense  and  of  flowers  contend 
(II.  xv).  Land  and  water  struggle  for  the  pos- 
session of  Tyre  (II.  xiv)  and  of  Egypt  (IV.  xii). 
The  hindfeet  of  Charicles's  horse  (I.  xii)  strive 
to  overtake  the  forefeet,  in  a  TroSwv  a/uiXX^! 

(16)  Conflicting  Emotions. — Another  trick  of 
the  same  author  is  to  attribute  conflicting  traits 
or  emotions  to  his  personages  whenever  possible. 
Andromeda  in  the  picture  shows  beauty  and  fear ; 
Prometheus  both  hopes  and  fears  (III.  vii,  viii)  ; 
Philomela  and  Procne  laugh  and  fear  (V.  iii). 
Thersander  vacillates  between  desire  and  rage 
(VI.  xix)  and  between  grief,  anger,  and  delibera- 
tion (VII.  i).  Clitophon  (V.  xix)  reads  Leu- 
cippe's letter,  and  Melitta  (V.  xxiv)  picks  up 
and  reads  the  same  letter, — each  with  conflicting 
emotions.  At  II.  xxiii  and  at  VI.  xiv,  there  is 
a  repetition  of  almost  the  same  words,  which 
show  plainly  how  this  mannerism  is  made  to  yield 
an  antithesis.  In  the  first  passage,  Clitophon 
enters  Leucippe's  chamber,  "trembling  with 
double  trepidation,  of  joy  and  of  fear.  For  the 
fear  of  danger  confounded  my  soul's  hope,  and 
hope  of  success  hid  my  fear  in  pleasure.  Thus 
the  hoping  part  of  me  was  afraid,  and  the  griev- 
ing part  rejoiced."  The  other  passage,  concern- 
ing Clitophon  in  prison,  is  even  neater :  "  My  soul 
was  in  the  balance  between  hope  and  fear,  and 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION 


the  hoping  part  feared  and  the  fearing  part 
hoped  "  :  rfyv  ^v^rjv  el%ov  eVl  Tpvrdv^  e'A.7ri8o? 
KOI  (f)d(3ov,  KOI  effrofteird  pot  TO  e\7ri£ov  /cal  jj\7ri£e 

TO  <})0/3oVlA€VOV. 

(17)  Multiple  Antithesis.  —  Again,  as  X  and  Y 
separate  more  and  more,  it  becomes  possible  to 
work  a  double  or  even  triple  antithesis,  as  in  the 
passages    just    given,  —  the    formula    for    which 
would  be   something  like  this  :  X  and  Y  con- 
fronted (one  clause)  ;  X  vs.  Y  (one  clause)  ;  Y 
vs.  X   (one  clause)  ;  all  together  forming  three 
co-ordinate  clauses,  each  of  which  contains  X  set 
over  against  Y,  while  the  second  and  the  third 
clauses  are  in  addition  set  over  against  each  other. 
Further  examples  of  this  antithesis  between  anti- 
theses are  given  above.     (See  (9),  (10),  (n), 
(12),  (13).)    Among  the  dangers  of  this  striving 
after  effect  may  be  noted  that  sometimes,  when 
two  things  are  not  opposed  at  all,  the  rhetorician 
nevertheless  opposes  them  for  the  sake  of  the 
jingle.     "The  trunk  was  a  support  to  the  ivy, 
and  the  ivy  was  a  garland  to  the  trunk."     (A.  T., 
I.  xv.  quoted  at  (13)  above).     Neither  the  couple 
"  trunk  "  and  "  ivy,"  nor  the  couple  "  support  " 
and  "  garland,"  is  antithetical  in  the  least. 

(18)  Balance;     Parallel     Structure.  —  It     is 
notable  too  that  when  X  and  Y  are  held  apart  in 
separate  phrases,  clauses,  or  sentences,  the  oppor- 
tunities for  balance  increase.    The  narrow  limits 
of  a  single  phrase  or  clause  usually  permit  only 
the  single  occurrence  of  a  group  of  sentence-ele- 
ments :  —  preposition  -(-object  ;  conjunction  -f-  sub- 
ject -{-  verb  -f-  adverb;  and  the  like.     But  when 


23°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

two  or  more  such  groups  are  set  parallel,  the 
structure  of  each  may  find  its  double  in  the  struc- 
ture of  the  others;  and  any  antithesis  within  or 
between  them  is  by  such  duplication  rendered  the 
more  striking.  For  convenient  reference  I  quote 
again,  along  with  other  examples,  some  passages 
already  given. 

A.  T.,  Ill  vii  (Painting  of  Andromeda)  :  eoitce 
TO  6eafj.a 

/tl  fM€V  et?  TO  /caXXo?  airtoois,  aydXpaTi  icaivS), 
\et  S'  et9  T<Z  Seerfta  /cal  TO  /er)T09,  auTOo-^eoYa)  Ta$a>. 

A.  T.,  II.  xxxvii.  'HpdaQrj  [sc.  6  Zew] 
peipatciov  <f>pvyb<*,  avtfyayev  etV  ovpavbv  TOV 
<&pvya,  TO  Be  /caXXo?  TWV  yvvaitcwv  avrbv  TOV  A  /a 
Karrfyayev  e£  ovpavov.83 

A     „,      T  ,     ,  /TO)  KITTW  OV77/ia  TO  Al>TOI/, 

A.  T.,  I.  xv.     eyiveToS    •  ,,          -i/T 

\(TT€(f)aVO<;   0     0  /CiTTO?  TOU 


A.  T.,  II.  xxxvi. 

ff    efi     \-\ 

<-'    '        '  J  XTO^TOUTOI/  et? 


w  6ea 

o<     ~     «     ,     ,Q 
\ry  TOJV  opviuwv 


A.  T.,  VI.  xiv.      TT;Z>  -^rv^rjv  etyov  eVt  rpvrdvr)<i 

+.     ,*          \    ,  to      /Kai  e&oBelro  wot  TO   €\,TTI£OV 
e\7Ttoo5  /cat  a>opou,<       \  »J^  %.      »  0.    /D   / 

'\/cai  r)\7ri<,€  TO  (popovfjievov. 

A.  T.,  II.  xxiii.     eVw  S'  ela-rjeiv,  •  •  •  Tpepav  rpo- 
fj.ov  SnrXovv,  %aoa?  awa  KOI  <}>d/3ov  • 
/  o  nev   yap  TOV  KIV^VVOV  0o'y3o?  edopvftei  Ta?  T^5 


\ 

J   S'  e\7rt9  TOU  TVelv  eTreKaXvTTTeiv  ySovj  TOV 


<f>6/3ov. 

**  "  He  raised  a  mortal  to  the  skies, 
She  drew  an  angel  down." 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  231 


/Kai  TO 

<>(         \    ,r  v   .  / 

\/cai  e%aipe  TO  AVTTOV pevov, 
A.  T.,  VIII.  viii. 
*OTav  u( 


TOV<?  a\\OTiovf  ot/cera?  ot 


fyvvaiKas  01 

('  When  debauchees  murder  other  people's  slaves, 
and  murderers  debauch  other  people's  wives,'  etc.) 


A.  T.,V.  xxv. 


('Hated,  I  love  my  hater;  tortured,  I  pity  my 
torturer.') 

(19)  Homeophony8*  (Repetition,  Assonance, 
Alliteration,  Rhyme ) .  As  a  final  touch,  the  rheto- 
rician adds  to  similarity  of  construction  similarity 
of  sound85 — "  homeophony."  This  may  consist 
merely  in  repetition  of  words  in  the  same  or  in 
inflected  or  derivative  forms.  In  (18)  there  are 
several  examples,  exhibiting  ingenious  interweav- 
ing of  the  homeophonic  words  with  the  words 
corresponding  in  construction.  Or  the  homeo- 
phony may  take  the  form  of  assonance  (simi- 
larity in  vowels),  alliteration  (similarity  in  con- 
sonants), or  rhyme  (homoioteleuton,  similarity 

84  This  word,  with  its  derivatives,  I  have  ventured  to 
coin.  There  seems  to  be  a  need  for  some  generic  term  to 
cover  all  the  species  of  similarity  in  sound. 

M  Which,  indeed,  could  scarcely  have  been  avoided ;  as, 
in  an  inflected  language,  grammatical  parallelism  often  car- 
ries with  it  similar  terminations. 


232  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

in  terminal  vowels  and  consonants  both89}.  In 
the  following  examples  it  will  be  noticed  that 
homeophony  is  not  confined  to  those  grammatical 
constructions  which  separate  X  and  Y,  but  occurs 
in  Oxymoron  as  well  as  in  Antithesis;  and  that 
throughout,  particularly  in  antithesis,  the  ten- 
dency is  to  make  the  corresponding  words  (X 
and  Y)  homeophonic.86 

A.  T.,  V.  xiv.  KevoTa<£toi>  ftev  jap  elSov,  tcevoyd- 
piov  8'  ov  (part-repetition  of  word ;  assonance,  cor- 
respondence). 

V.  xx.  AVCTTU^W  pev  ev  ol?  euru^w  (part-repeti- 
tion; rhyme;  correspondence)  on  ae  Trapwv  ira- 
povcrav  o>5  aTroBrj/Aovaav  6pS)  (rhyme;  correspon- 
dence). 

V.  xviii.  Tlolov  yap  otyov  JJLOI  TroXvreXe?  i)  Troto? 
olvos  Tt/zttwre/ao?  T?}?  err}?  o^reo)? ;  (alliteration ;  cor- 

86  From  the  frequency  of  these  figures  of  balance  it  must 
not  be  inferred  that  the  style  of  the  Greek  Romances  is 
uniformly  or  even  prevalently  periodic.  Short  word-groups 
of  the  same  rank  balance  as  readily  as  longer  combinations 
of  sentence-members  of  different  ranks.  In  fact,  much  of 
the  body  of  the  narrative — excluding  &c0/>d<retj,  letters,  "  ora- 
tions "  and  other  passages  in  heightened  style — is  kept  arti- 
ficially simple  (d0e\£s  ) — often  in  an  attempt  to  imitate  the 
naive  paratactic  structure  of  archaic  prose.  A.  T.,  I.  i : 
"  Sidon  is  a  city  on  the  sea  ;  the  sea  is  that  of  the  Assyrians ; 
the  city  of  the  Phoenicians  is  the  mother ;  the  people  of 
the  Thebans  is  the  father.  ...  I  behold  a  picture  of  land 
and  sea  together.  The  picture  is  of  Europa :  the  sea  is  that 
of  the  Phoenicians  ;  the  land  is  that  of  Sidon.  On  the  land, 
a  meadow  and  a  bevy  of  maidens.  On  the  sea,  a  bull  .  .  ." 
D.  and  C,  I.  xiii :  "  She  persuaded  him  to  bathe  again, 
and  as  he  bathed  she  looked,  and  having  looked  she  touched, 
and  having  touched  she  praised,  and  the  praise  was  the 
beginning  of  love."  There  is  a  close  analogy  between 
this  archaistic  simplicity  attained  by  artifice,  and  that  of 
our  own  modern  attempts  to  imitate  the  prose  of  the 
English  Bible.  The  "  note  "  of  both  is  coordinate  structure. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  233 

respondence).     'What  sweet  more  dainty  than 
thy  sight?' 

VIII.   viii.    T<wv    BVO-TVXOVVTWV   elaiv,    ov 
aSiKovvTcav  ol  /3&>/ioi  (rhyme;  correspondence). 

^Eth.,  X.  xxix.  T049  o-vverois  a<rvv€Ta  (frOeyyo 
(repetition;  correspondence). 

'  To  the  intelligent  I  speak  the  unintelligible.' 

A.  T.,  III.  xvi.    KaQdpaiov  yeyovas 
a-ojfjLaTwv  (repetition;  correspondence). 

•f]  TWV  (TTrXdj^vcov  crov  rac^r)  Xyaroav  <yeyove  Tpo<f>r) 
(alliteration;  rhyme;  correspondence).  'Thy 
entrails  '  sepulture  is  the  robbers'  nurture.' 

III.  xxv.    7i5)v  fjiev  ovv  At^toi/r  earl  T 


rj  ra(f)fj. 

(Parallel   structure;   assonance;    rhyme;   corre- 
spondence). 

VIII.  viii.  8iKr)v  SeSwKax;  ov  SeSwicev  (  repetition 
forming  group;  alliteration  between  group  and 
outside  word). 

II.  xxiv.  aSogels  ev  ot?  Svcrrv^ei^  (rhyme;  cor- 
respondence). 

II.  xxii.     Trapcov  ov  Trdpeifjii'  O/AOV  Se  fcal 
teal  fjievw  (repetition;  correspondence). 

IV.  ix.     *Ii  8ucm;^et9  ^/iet?  OTO.V 
(  correspondence  ;  repetition  )  . 

I.  xiii.    Ta'<£o<?  nev  aoi  6  ^aXa/zo?, 
7a/uo?  S'  6  ddvarofj 
Bprjvos  8'  6  v/j,evaios. 

(Three  clauses  parallel  in  structure;  within  each 
of  first  two  clauses,  assonance  ;  between  first  two 
clauses,  assonance,   alliteration,   and   correspon- 
dence). 
'Burial  is  your  nuptial  bed; 


234  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

your  bridal  comes  now  you  are  dead; 

a  funeral  wail  is  the  song  for  you  that  should 
have  wed.' 

The  figures  of  oxymoron,  antithesis  and  home- 
ophony,  which  in  their  beginnings  in  Greek  philo- 
sophical prose87  were  the  natural  though  studied 
expression  of  an  essential  duality  and  contrast  in 
the  real  world,  reflecting  in  words  whatever  Hera- 
clitus  and  Hippocrates  and  Empedocles  saw  of 
the  truth  of  things,  have  now  but  too  evidently 
degenerated  into  mere  artifice.  Even  when  they 
have  no  substance  to  express,  they  continue  to 
flourish  rankly,  because  the  rhetorician  insists 
upon  contorting  and  splitting  the  most  innocent 
idea  in  order  to  squeeze  a  crude  contrast  out  of 
the  twisted  fissure.  And  when,  in  the  Greek  Ro- 
mances, they  do  express  any  substance  at  all,  it 
is  the  substance  of  a  dismembered  fabric  of 
events,  persons,  and  objects, — where  disconnect- 
edness and  irrelevancy  prevail,  where  at  any 
moment  chance  may  step  in  with  its  abrupt 
changes  and  rude  negations,  and  where  one  thing, 
instead  of  leading  to  its  natural  consequence, 
leads  to  its  opposite,  or  to  something  that  has 
nothing  to  do  with  it  at  all.  Here  indeed  the 
loose  structure  and  the  flashy  style  fit  each  other. 
The  loose  structure  requires  the  reader  to  leap 
in  thought  from  an  X  to  a  Y  that  is  not  essentially 
connected  with  it:  expecting  more  of  X  or  its 
consequences,  he  is  suddenly  confronted  with  Y, 
and  his  expectation  defeated.  The  flashy  style, 
where  X — which  the  reader  never  thought  was 

*  See  Norden,  op.  cit.,  pp.  17-23. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  2^5 

Y  at  all — is  said  to  be  Y,  or  where  X  and  Y — 
which  the  reader  had  been  associating — are  sud- 
denly dissociated  and  opposed,  is  partly  the  fitting 
expression  of  such  cheap  relations  between  things, 
their  irrelevancy,  their  haphazard  connections, 
their  violent  severances — and  partly  deliberate 
clap-trap.  Structure  and  style  alike  convey  a 
base  view  of  life  and  of  the  function  of  literature. 
So  far  from  seeking  to  unify  the  divers  phe- 
nomena of  life  under  law,  the  Greek  Romance 
prefers  to  keep  them  apart,  in  all  their  chance 
diversity,  showiness,  and  separate  sensuous  ap- 
peal. Law,  permanency,  consistency,  the  unity  in 
spirit  of  that  which  in  matter  is  so  various  and 
contradictory — all  this  is  too  sober,  too  dull.  Let 
us  have  what  is  truly  interesting;  let  us  have  what 
moves  and  jingles  and  glitters.  Let  us  have  the 
passing  show. 

It  is  as  if  the  Greek  Romances  were  "made  to 
order  "  for  the  entertainment  of  the  Renaissance. 
Their  authors,  like  Virgil,  "  divined  what  the  fu- 
ture would  love."  Hardly  any  other  kind  of  fic- 
tion, hardly  any  other  view  of  life,  could  appeal 
more  strongly  to  the  sixteenth  century  novel- 
reader  and  novel-writer  than  the  ornate,  spec- 
tacular, rhetorical,  sentimental,  fortuitous  medley 
which  we  have  been  attempting  to  characterize. 
The  Renaissance,  in  its  uncritical  acceptance  of 
everything  Greek  and  Roman  as  ipso  facto  clas- 
sical, felt  at  liberty  to  choose  according  to  its  own 
unquiet  taste,  and  thus  established  and  for  cen- 
turies maintained  among  the  canons  of  classicism 


236  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

the  late  works  of  Alexandria  and  of  the  Hellen- 
ized  and  Romanized  Orient — works  which  today 
are  perceived  not  to  be  classical  at  all.  Among 
them  it  chose  to  admire  and  to  imitate  the  Greek 
Romances.  What  did  the  Renaissance  in  England 
do  with  this  very  distinctive  body  of  fiction? 
What  did  it  make  of  this  great  stock  of  types, 
motifs  and  incidents,  pictures,  models  of  narra- 
tive method,  patterns  of  rhetorical  device?  The 
following  chapters  of  the  present  study  will  at- 
tempt an  answer. 


INTERCHAPTER 

Though  the  material  facts  concerning  Renais- 
sance translations  and  editions  of  the  Greek  Ro- 
mances have  already  been  presented  in  tabular 
form  (ante,  pp.  8-10),  it  may  be  not  superfluous 
to  add  some  further  particulars  bearing  upon  the 
accessibility  of  the  chief  of  these  Romances  to 
Elizabethan  writers,  and  to  characterize  briefly  at 
least  one  of  the  Elizabethan  translations — Day's 
paraphrase  of  Amyot's  version  of  "  Daphnis  and 
Chloe."1 

Heliodorus,  first  printed  in  1534  at  Basel,  ex 
officina  Hervaegiana,  with  a  preface  by  Opso- 
poeus,2  was  first  translated  by  Amyot  (Paris, 
I5473;  Folio).  It  was  not  this  French  transla- 
tion, however,  but  Warschewiczki's  translation 
into  Latin  (Basel,  1551),  which  served  as  the 

1  Underdowne's  Heliodorus,   with  its  errors  and  quaint- 
nesses,    and   its   occasional    splendor   of   diction,    has   been 
adequately    treated   in   Mr.   Whibley's   introduction   to    the 
"  Tudor  Translation  "  reprint. 

2  Whibley,  p.  xiv ;  Script.  Erot.,  p.  iii. 

s  Brunei,  and  Grasse,  both  s.  v.  "  Heliodorus  " ;  Jacobs, 
Friedrich,  "Einleitung"  to  his  translation,  p.  14  n. ;  Sandys, 
II.  195;  Dunlop,  II.  404;  Warren,  58.  A  second  edition, 
Paris,  1549,  mentioned  as  such  by  Brunet,  Grasse,  and 
Jacobs  (as  above),  is  said  by  Lenglet,  II.  9,  and  by  Koert- 
ing,  I.  26,  to  be  the  first;  while  Whibley,  p.  xv,  dates  the 
first  edition  1559.  This  date  is  certainly  incorrect;  the 
title  page  of  the  edition  of  1559  (fol.)  in  the  Columbia 
University  Library  plainly  declares  it  to  be  "  de  nouueau 
reueue  &  corrigee,"  and  the  license  (verso  of  title-page) 
calls  it  "  nouuellement  reueu,  corrige  &  augment^  par  le 
mesme  traslateur." 

237 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


original  of  the  English  version  by  Thomas  Un- 
derdowne  ;  who  "  owed  no  debt  to  Amyot,"  but 
"  follows  the  ingenious  Warschewiczki  into  his 
every  error."4 

The  date  of  Underdowne's  first  edition  is  in 
doubt.  According  to  the  "  Athenae  Oxonienses  " 
(I.  431-2)  it  was  printed  for  Henrie  Wykes  by 
Francis  Coldocke  in  1577.  But  in  1569  Francis 
Coldocke  had  already  been  licensed  to  publish 
"  the  ende  of  the  xth  boke  of  HELIODERUS  ETHIO- 
PIUM  historye  "  (  Stationers'  Register,  Transcript, 
I.  388),  —  a  license  which  seems  to  imply  that  the 
remainder  of  the  "  yEthiopica  "  had  already  been 
printed.  On  the  other  hand,  Underdowne's  ad- 
dress "  To  the  Gentle  Reader  "  in  the  edition  of 
1587,  would  support  the  later  date.  "  I  translated 
(gentle  reader)  not  long  agoe,  Heliodorus  Ethio- 
pian history,  which  after  I  had  committed  to 
Maister  Frauncis  Coldocke,  my  friend,  he  caused 
the  same  to  be  published:  wherewith  (though  not 
well  advised)  I  was  well  contented,  at  that  time: 
but  nowe  beeing  by  riper  yeeres  better  advised,  I 
am  at  thy  hand  forced,  to  crave  pardon  of  my 
boldnesse"  (U,  p.  4).  A  period  of  ten  years  (to 
Z577)  might  possibly  be  spoken  of  as  "not  long 
agoe  "  ;  but  even  that  seems  rather  to  stretch  the 
phrase;  while  eighteen  years  (to  1569)  could 
hardly  be  covered  by  the  phrase  at  all.5 

4  Whibley,  pp.  xiv,  n.,  xv. 

'  It  seems  possible  that  there  was  an  edition  in  each  of 
the  years  1569  and  1577.  If  such  be  the  case,  may  not 
Underdowne's  words  to  the  Gentle  Reader,  as  given  in  the 
edition  of  1587,  have  been  reprinted  from  that  of  1577? 
They  would  then  allude  only  to  the  period  of  eight  years 
between  the  first  and  the  second  edition.  (Cf.  Oeftering, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  3  39 


The  later  date  (1577)  still  brings  the  " 
pica"  into  Elizabethan  hands  in  plenty  of  time. 
"  Euphues  "  is  not  yet  out  ;  Greene's  first  piece 
of  fiction  will  not  be  licensed  till  three  years  later  ; 
Lodge's  will  not  be  printed  till  seven  ;  Sidney  has 
perhaps  begun  the  "  Arcadia  "  in  desultory  fash- 
ion,6 but  will  not  finish  it  for  several  years,  and 
will  afterward,  before  his  death  in  1586,  recast 
rather  more  than  the  first  half  of  it,  with  the 
"^Ethiopica  "  full  in  his  view.  —  As  for  the  sub- 
sequent edition  of  Underdowne,  in  1587,  this, 
though  it  comes  too  late  for  Sidney,  is  ready  to 
give  Greene  a  new  impulse  toward  the  imitation 
of  Greek  Romance. 

In  the  case  of  both  Longus  and  Achilles  Tatius, 
translations  long  precede  the  editio  princeps. 
Amyot  is  the  pioneer  again  in  publishing  a  trans- 
lation of  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe,"  his  celebrated 
French  version  having  been  issued  in  1559,  ten 
years  before  the  paraphrase  into  Latin  hexameters 
by  Lorenzo  Gambara,7  and  nearly  forty  years  be- 

p.  49.)  The  earlier  date  (1569)  is  also  supported  by  the 
fact  that  a  play  based  on  the  "  ^thiopica  "  was  performed 
at  Court  in  1572-3.  The  Revels  Accounts  for  December, 
January  and  February,  1572-3,  mention  "  ij  spears  for  the 
play  of  Cariclia,"  and  "  An  awlter  for  theagines."  (Feuil- 
lerat,  p.  175.)  A  still  earlier  excerpt  from  Heliodorus 
appeared,  according  to  Oeftering,  p.  92,  n.  2,  in  James  San- 
ford's  "  Amorous  and  Tragicall  Tales  of  Plutarch,  where- 
unto  is  annexed  the  Historic  of  Chariclea  and  Theagenes 
with  sentences  of  the  Greek  philosophers.  London,  1567." 
Oeftering  adds  that  this  was  printed  by  H.  Bynneman  and 
dedicated  to  Sir  Hugh  Paulet  of  Hinton  St.  George,  Som- 
erset ;  that  the  "  Historic  of  Chariclea  and  Theagenes  "  is 
at  folios  10-27;  and  (p.  93)  that  its  title  designates  it  as 
"  Gathered  for  the  most  part  out  of  Heliodorus  a  Greeke 
Authour." 

•Cf.  Dobell,  p.  74. 

*  Jacobs,  J.,  Introd.,  pp.  xv,  xxx. 


340  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

fore  the  princeps  of  1598.  ("Florentiae,  Apud 
Philippum  lunctam.  MDIIC.")8  Annibal  Caro 
had,  to  be  sure,  made  a  translation  into  Italian 
prose  in  1538-40;  but  this  was  not  published  until 
1784,  after  a  disappearance  of  more  than  two 
centuries.9 

The  Elizabethan  version  of  "  Daphnis  and 
Chloe  "  by  Angel  Day  was  published  in  the  same 
year  as  the  current  edition  of  Underdowne — 1587 ; 
and,  like  the  latter,  it  entered  at  once  into  the 
work  of  the  versatile  Greene.  It  was  too  late  to 
touch  Sidney,  who  had  died  the  year  before.  In 
fact,  Sidney's  "  Arcadia  "  does  not  show  the  least 
sign  of  acquaintance  either  with  the  version  of 
Amyot,  or  with  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe "  in  any 
other  form. 

Day  paraphrased  Amyot's  translation,  adding 
and  omitting,  expanding  and  abridging,  as  he 
pleased.  Textual  particulars  of  his  treatment  of 
Amyot  are  given  in  Appendix  A  (post,  p.  465)  ; 
it  may  be  well  to  notice  here  one  or  two  of  his 
more  striking  changes  in  the  text,  as  well  as 
some  of  the  literary  characteristics  of  his  ver- 
sion. For,  in  a  way,  his  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe  " 
is  itself  a  piece  of  Elizabethan  prose  fiction. 

Obvious  at  sight  is  Day's  omission  of  the 
Proem, — an  omission  which  took  from  the  Eliza- 
bethan reader  Longus's  explanation  of  his  pas- 
toral as  a  series  of  pictures  illustrated  by  appro- 
priate feelings.  Equally  obvious  is  Day's  removal 

8  I  have  seen  Ben  Jonson's  copy,  now  owned  by  a  private 
collector. 

8  See  Caro's  "Opere"  ("Classic!  Italian! "),  Milano,  1812. 
Vol.  7 ;  prefatory  matter  by  Francesco  Daniele  (p.  xxxii). 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  241 

of  nearly  three  quarters  of  the  original  Third 
Book  to  the  beginning  of  his  Fourth,  and  his  in- 
sertion, instead,  of  "  The  Shepherd's  Holiday,"  a 
dull  pastoral  of  his  own  in  praise  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. But  of  the  liberties  Day  took  with  the  text 
of  his  original  perhaps  the  most  interesting  is  his 
filling  of  the  lacuna  in  the  First  Book.10  As  is 
well  known,  this  was  not  authentically  filled  till 
1809,  when  Paul  Louis  Courier  transcribed  from 
a  MS.  in  the  Benedictine  Abbey11  at  Florence  the 
missing  passage,  which  he  had  discovered  upon 
a  previous  visit,  probably  in  1807.  The  story  of 
how,  after  transcribing  the  passage,  he  blotted  the 
MS.  page,  and  of  the  furious  controversy  that 
ensued,  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of  literature.12 
He  had  in  Day  a  canny  though  not  an  authentic 
predecessor.  The  textual  notes  in  Appendix  A 
(post,  p.  465)  show  how  ingeniously  Day  drew 
from  the  passages  after  the  lacuna  most  of  the 
matter  with  which  he  filled  it,  and  how  he  made 
guesses  at  the  rest. 

With  the  spirit  of  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe  "  Day 
took  even  greater  liberties  than  with  the  letter. 
Longus,  and  Amyot  after  him,  are  "  simple  and 
sensuous " ;  they  draw  their  persons  and  their 
scenes  with  the  pure  Greek  outline,  as  well  as 

10  Mr.  Joseph  Jacobs,  though  he  notices  the  attempts  of 
later  translators  (p.  xxx)  to  fill  this  celebrated  lacuna,  has 
apparently  not  observed  Day's  own  interpolation. 

11  In  1832  the  MS.  was  in  the  Laurentian  Library  (Fried- 
rich    Jacobs,    "  Vorrede "    to    his    translation   of   "  Daphnis 
and  Chloe,"  p.  14).     I  examined  it  there  July  i,  1910. 

12  See   Courier's   "  Lettre  a   M.   Renouard   sur  une   tache 
d'encre  dans  une  copie  de  Longus"  (1810),  and  authorities 
cited  by  Mr.  Joseph  Jacobs,  pp.  xix-xxii. 

I? 


24*  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

with  the  full  Greek  range  of  definite  sensations.18 
I  have  spoken  of  the  effect  as  one  of  richness  in 
simplicity.14  Now  where  Longus  and  Amyot  are 
simple,  Day  is  composite.  To  Chloe's  plain  chap- 
let  of  pine  he  must  add  "all  sortes  of  flowers," 
and  when  Chloe  is  likened  to  a  nymph,  he  must 
liken  her  not  only  to  a  nymph,  but  also  to  Leda 
and  to  lo  (A  29;  Da  35-6) ;  Amyot's  "  1'humeur 
de  la  fontaine  "  becomes  in  Day  "  the  ouerflowing 
waues  with  Cristall  humor"  (A  8;  Da  8-9). 
When  Amyot  says  that  Daphnis  saw  Chloe,  Day 
speaks  of  him  as  "  fastening  his  earnest  lookes  on 
her  admirable  beuties,"  and  "  wholie  confused  by 
Loue  the  force  whereof  distilling  amaine  within 
him,  had  wrought  to  his  most  secret  entrailes" 
(A  29;  Da  35-6).  Day  is  thus  continually  forc- 
ing the  note, — overdoing  both  Longus's  objective 
descriptions,  of  which  he  blurs  the  clear  outlines, 
and  Longus's  accounts  of  the  children's  iraOo^, 
which  he  sentimentalizes.15  He  further  compli- 
cates the  simplicity  of  his  original  with  fine  writ- 
ing,16 ink-horn  terms,17  and  antitheses,18  and  with 

15  Ante,  p.  1 68.  l4  Ante,  p.  169. 

15  A  28,  "  le  travail  .  .  .  baigner,"  a  total  of  ninety-three 
words  on  the  children's  symptoms  of  love,  becomes,  at  Da 
33-4,  "  And  werisomness  of  the  painefull  trauel  .  .  .  their 
chiefest  ease  " — more  than  three  hundred  words. 

"A  65  :  "  ta  Chloe  reviendra  demain."  Da  72  :  "  Thy 
Chloe,  or  ever  the  faire  Arora  next  shall  have  quite  vailed 
of  her  purple  cover  powdered  with  glimpsing  stars,  .  .  . 
shalbe  againe  returned  unto  thee."  Da  99 :  "  Nowe  the 
purple  covert  of  Jupiters  segniory,  beganne  to  take  hold  in 
the  element,  etc."  (not  in  A). 

1T  Da  1 1  :  "  Frustrate  was  his  body  of  garments  "  (not 
in  A). 

18  Da  34 :  "  Contentment  reposed  it  selfe  uppon  their 
deepest  disquiet,  and  from  their  greatest  miscontentment 
sprang  uppe  againe  their  chiefest  ease  "  (not  in  A). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  243 

adventitious  matter  the  nature  and  extent  of 
which  may  best  be  shown  by  an  extract.  The 
words  in  brackets  are  not  in  Amyot  (pp.  7-8). 
Da  8-9 :  "  There  was  a  certaine  great  caue,  stand- 
ing in  a  rocke,  [sacred  sometimes  to  the  Nimphes 
and  therefore]  called  by  the  name  of  the  Nimphes 
Caue,  something  crooked  within,  but  altogether 
round  without.  In  the  inward  part  whereof  were 
divers  statues  of  [Goddesses  and  other]  Nimphes, 
wrought  [finely]  out  of  stone,  the  feete  unshod, 
the  armes  all  naked,  [and  th'  atire  buckled  on] 
the  shoulders,  their  haires  cast  onely  upon  their 
necks,  without  tressing  at  all ;  girded  they  were 
upon  their  loynes,  their  lookes  [sweetly]  smiling, 
and  their  counternaunces  such,  [as  seemed  with 
interchangeable  favors  in  delicate  sorte  to  greete 
cache  other].  Right  under  the  hollowe  rising  of 
this  caue,  sprang  in  the  middest  of  the  bottom  a 
[sweet]  fountaine,  which  [raising  it  selfe,  with 
a  soft  bubling,]  gathered  into  a  [pleasaunt 
springe]  (ruysseau,  A  8),  wherewith  the  fresh 
and  fruitful!  grenes  [round  about  the  same]  were 
[continually]  watered.  Ouer  the  mouth  of  the 
caue,  where  the  [overflowing  waves  with  Cristal] 
humor  had  wrought  [from  the  earth  sondrie 
kindes  of  flowers  and]  hearbs  of  delicate  vewe, 
hong  divers  flutes,  Pipes,  and  Flagiolots,  made  of 
reedes,  which  the  auncient  shepheards  had  [often 
tofore-time]  sacred  [unto  the  Nimphes  ]for  [their 
greatest]  offrings." 

But  Day  is  not  only  overloaded  and  composite 
where  Longus  and  Amyot  are  simple:  he  is 
meagre,  generalized  and  vague  where  they  are 


344  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

rich  in  specific  sensations.  He  not  only  doubles 
or  breaks  their  sharp  outline ;  he  dulls  it  by  nar- 
rowing his  range  of  sensuous  impressions.  In- 
stead of  their  one  clear  image,  he  presents  several 
vague  images,  each  one  blurred  by  his  omission 
of,  say,  sound  or  odor  from  the  description,  or 
by  his  running  off  into  conventional  mythological 
verbiage  of  little  or  no  descriptive  force.  Of 
Philetas's  piping  (A  76),  so  full  of  distinct 
sounds,  Day  says  (84-5)  that  it  was  "handled 
with  such  perfection,  as  all  that  he  plaied,  you 
would  have  thought  almost  to  have  beene  a  thing 
in  deede  effected,  -whether  it  were  in  actions  be- 
longing to  the  feeding  and  garding  of  all  kinds  of 
beasts,  which  in  sundrie  orderly  times  he  diversly 
had  expressed,  or  in  any  sort  otherwise."  He 
thus  generalizes  and  puts  in  the  alternative  what 
his  original  gave  specifically  and  distinctly.  The 
varying  sounds  of  the  sailors'  song  and  chorus, 
with  its  echo  as  the  boat  passes  the  headland  and 
the  bay  (A  101)  he  greatly  weakens  (Da  125)  ; 
and  the  passage  on  the  coming  of  spring,  with 
the  piping  of  shepherds,  the  bleating  of  flocks, 
and  the  song  of  the  nightingale,  becomes  abso- 
lutely dumb  under  his  hand  (A  92,  Da  124). 
The  dead  dolphin,  with  its  most  ancient  and  fish- 
like  smell,  he  omits  altogether  (A  104  ff.), — 
and  it  may  be  spared,  perhaps;  but  so  does  he 
omit  the  fragrance  of  the  fruit  from  Longus's 
lovely  idyll  of  the  golden  apple  (A  115  ff . ;  Da 
134-5).  As  for  the  sensation  of  heat,  he  thinks 
to  suggest  it  by  saying  that  "  Titan  having 
wound  hym  selfe  in  the  Crabbe,  drewe  fast  to 
the  Lions  cabbin"  (Da  38;  not  in  A). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION.  245 

Add  to  all  this  that  Day's  version  often  blun- 
ders away  from  the  plain  meaning  of  Amyot's 
French  ;19  that,  far  more  than  Longus  and  Amy- 
ot,  it  emphasizes  ridiculous  and  even  contempti- 
ble aspects  of  rustic  manners  and  character;20 
that  it  altogether  omits  irony  from  the  denoue- 
ment; that  it  suffers  from  the  Renaissance  lues 
Fortunae,  the  disease  of  magnifying  to  excess  the 
agency  of  Fortune,21  and  that  it  adopts  towards 
the  two  children  an  attitude  half  tender,  half 
patronizing,  but  wholly  foreign  to  its  original  ;22 
and  you  have  some  of  its  distinguishing  charac- 
teristics as  a  piece  of  Elizabethan  prose  fiction. 
Its  antitheses,  overloaded  ornament,  sentimental 
"psychology,"  and  lues  Fortunae  tempt  one  to 
sum  the  matter  up  by  saying  that  Day  handled 
the  matter  of  Longus  in  something  like  the  man- 
ner of  Achilles  Tatius. 

The   editio   prince ps  of  Achilles   Tatius   was 

"Where  A  says  (p.  8)  that  the  nymphs'  statues  looked 
"  comme  si  elles  eussent  balls  ensemble,"  Da  (8-9)  trans- 
lates "  seemed  ...  to  greets  cache  other."  In  the  same 
passage  he  translates  "  creuse  "  by  "  crooked  "  (A  7,  Da  8). 
A's  "  vignes  du  vignoble  de  Metelin  "  (42)  become  in  Day 
(50)  "  the  vines  of  Vignenoble  in  Mitilene,"  as  if  "  vig- 
noble "  were  a  geographical  proper  name.  The  account  of 
the  relative  functions  of  Fortune  and  Providence  at  A  142 
is  hopelessly  muddled  by  Day  (148). 

20  Lamon's  greediness,  Da  7 ;  Myrtale's  simple-minded 
question,  ib.,  8;  Dryas's  "  clubbish  condition,"  ib.,  10  ;  Dor- 
con's  holiday  finery,  ib.,  22,  23-4  (part  of  Day's  interpola- 
tion) ;  Dorcon's  stratagem,  ib.,  29. 

"Da  98,  99,  151,  153,  153-4.     Cf.  ante,  p.  123  n.  7. 

MA  ii  :  "  les  envoyerent  tous  deux  aux  champs  garder 
les  bestes."  Da  13:  "dispatched  the  two  darlings  of  the 
earth  to  their  severall  heards."  An:  "  Ces  deux  jeunes 
enfans."  Da  14:  "These  Images  of  Beautie."  Da  15: 
"  these  seemely  portraictures  of  well  pleasing  youth  "  (not 
in  A). 


246  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

printed  at  Heidelberg,  "  ex  officina  Commelin- 
iana,"  in  1601  ;23  but,  like  Longus,  Achilles  Tatius 
had  appeared  in  translation  many  years  before. 
In  1544  Annibale  della  Croce  (Hannibal  Cruc- 
ceius)  published  at  Lyons  a  Latin  version  of  the 
last  four  books;  in  1554,  at  Basel,  a  more  com- 
plete version.24  In  1546  Lodovico  Dolce  pub- 
lished at  Venice  the  last  four  books  in  Italian, 
under  the  title  "  Amorosi  Ragionamenti," — the 
publisher  (Gabriele  Giolito)  declaring  that  the 
author's  name  was  unknown,  "  unless  perchance 
it  be  that  Clitophon  in  whose  person  these  dis- 
courses are  told,"  and  that  the  fragment  had 
reached  his  hands  "  without  its  beginning  and 
without  its  end."25  He  was  of  course  mistaken 
as  to  the  end.  Angelo  Coccio's  complete  (?) 
translation  into  Italian  was  published  in  Venice 
in  1560  (reprinted  there  in  1563  and  1568,  and 
in  Florence  in  1598  and  1599)  ;26  and  in  1568 
(Paris)  appeared  a  French  version  "par  B.  Co- 
mingeois,"  who  may  be  Belleforest.27 

The  first  English  translation  is  that  of  William 
Burton,  1597,  now  existing  in  a  copy  probably 
unique,  concerning  which  the  owner,  Mr.  A.  T. 
Porter,  of  London,  has  favored  me  with  the  fol- 
lowing particulars :  "  Burton  translates  the  whole 
eight  books.  ...  I  have  read  the  whole  work 
through  twice,  and  parts  of  it  many  times,  [and] 
I  have  detected  no  omissions  or  insertions;  in 

38  W.  Schmid,  in  Pauly-Wissowa,  I.  246-7 ;  Lenglet,  II.  6. 

*  W.  Schmid,  ibid. 

38  Copy  in  Columbia  University  Library,  fol.  av,  3r. 

»  Lenglet,  II.  78. 

"  Ibid. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  247 

fact,  I  think,  its  almost  immediate  suppression  is 
proof  of  the  faithfulness  of  the  translation.  It  is 
a  charming  specimen  of  Elizabethan  prose."28 

Burton's  translation  came  too  late  to  affect 
"  Euphues,"  Greene,  or  Sidney ;  Nash  published 
no  prose  fiction  after  "  The  Unfortunate  Trav- 
eller" in  1594;  Lodge  none  after  "A  Margarite 
of  America"  in  1596  (written  1592).  It  would 
seem  that  Burton's  late  appearance  and  imme- 
diate suppression  cut  him  off  from  the  influ- 
ence which  he  must  otherwise  have  exercised 
upon  a  reading  and  writing  public  so  fond  of 
Achilles  Tatius's  vein.  But,  as  has  just  been 
seen,  Latin,  French  and  Italian  translations  were 
accessible  long  before  the  publication  of  "  Eu- 
phues " ;  and,  as  will  abundantly  appear  from 
internal  evidence,  Greene  and  Sidney  knew  their 
"  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  "  thoroughly. 

28  For  a  detailed  account  of  this  volume,  see  Appendix  C. 


PART  TWO 

ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION 


CHAPTER   I 


JOHN 

The  connection  between  Lyly  and  Greek  Ro- 
mance rests  partly  upon  proof,  and  partly  upon 
probable  conjecture.  There  is  proof  that  the  plot 
of  "  Euphues  "  is  derived  from  Boccaccio's  tale 
of  "  Tito  and  Gisippo  "  (Decam.,  X.  8)  .  There  is 
probable  conjecture,  by  such  authorities  as  Wil- 
helm  Grimm,  Erwin  Rohde,  and  Gaston  Paris, 
that  Boccaccio's  tale  is  indebted  to  a  Greek  origi- 
nal. This  indebtedness  may  be  secondary,  by  way 
of  the  Old  French  poem  "  Athis  et  Prophilias," 
which  is  known  to  be  one  of  the  sources  of  "  Tito 
and  Gisippo  "  and  which  is  believed  to  be  derived 
from  a  late  Greek  Romance  now  lost;  or  it  may 
be  primary,  —  several  of  Boccaccio's  tales  (see 
post,  p.  370)  showing  clearly  that  he  was  in  con- 
tact with  Greek  fiction.  But  whether  primary  or 

1  In  "  Campaspe,"  I.  i,  64  f.,  70  f.,  there  is  a  probable  allu- 
sion, and  in  "  Mother  Bombie,"  I.  i,  26  ff.,  an  unmistakable 
allusion,  to  the  "^Ethiopica."  "  Euphues,"  however,  shows 
no  traces  of  the  influence  of  Heliodorus. 

In  "  Gallathea  "  I.  i,  28-34,  the  antithetical  description 
of   the   flood   is   unmistakably   from    A.   T.,    IV.    xii.      But 
"  Euphues  "  gets  nothing  from  Achilles  Tatius,  except  pos- 
sibly some  traits  of  style  (see  post,  p.  256  n.  3). 
248 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  249 

secondary,  the  transmission  of  specific  elements 
from  Greek  Romance  to  Boccaccio,  and  from 
Boccaccio  to  Lyly,  is  almost  certain. 

From  Boccaccio  Lyly  takes  not  only  narrative 
material,  but  narrative  technique  as  well :  the  di- 
vision of  similar  material  into  similar  stages  and 
scenes — its  "  articulation  " ;  and  the  employment 
of  pathos,  of  soliloquy,  and  of  dialogue.  In 
both  "  Euphues "  and  "  Tito  and  Gisippo "  a 
young  stranger  sojourning  in  a  city  becomes  the 
friend  of  a  young  citizen,  who  is  betrothed  to  a 
girl  of  great  beauty  and  noble  birth.  To  her  the 
citizen  introduces  his  friend,  who  falls  in  love 
with  her  at  sight.  The  new  lover  retires  to  his 
chamber,  and  in  a  soliloquy  determines  that  his 
love  must  prevail  over  his  friendship.  During  his 
lovesickness,  the  citizen  visits  him,  inquires  the 
cause  of  his  distress,  and  offers  his  own  services. 
The  stranger  dissembles  his  love. — So  far  the  two 
stories  are  the  same,  both  in  material  and  in  con- 
struction ;  but  here  they  part  company.  Boccac- 
cio's is  a  tale  of  true  friendship : — the  stranger  at 
length  acknowledges  his  love  and  the  citizen  sur- 
renders to  him  his  betrothed.  Lyly's  is  a  tale  of 
fickleness  in  love,  and  of  friendship  betrayed: — 
the  stranger  continues  to  dissemble,  covertly  wins 
the  affection  of  his  friend's  betrothed,  becomes 
her  acknowledged  lover,  and  is  later  jilted  for  his 
pains.  But  it  is  safe  to  say  that  Lyly  took  the 
beginning  of  his  story,  with  its  evolution  and  ar- 
ticulation, from  Boccaccio ;  and  it  is  difficult  not  to 
think  that  he  also  took  a  hint  for  his  continua- 
tion: let  the  stranger  go  on  dissembling,  and  po- 
etic justice  will  require  that  he  be  jilted.  The 


250  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

derivation  of  "  Euphues "  from  "Tito  and  Gi- 
sippo "  is  confirmed  by  numerous  verbal  par- 
allels.14 

If,  now,  Boccaccio  got  either  this  narrative 
material  or  this  narrative  technique,  mediately  or 
immediately,  from  a  Greek  Romance,  then  it  will 
be  certain  that  Lyly,  at  one  or  more  removes  to 
be  sure,  also  inherited  the  Greek  legacy.  That 
Boccaccio  did  learn  the  lesson  of  narrative  form 
from  Greek  Romance  cannot,  of  course,  be  dem- 
onstrated ;  but  it  is  quite  probable ;  and,  as  far  as  I 
know,  there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be  true. 

The  discussion  of  Boccaccio's  source  requires 
us  to  consider  various  versions  of  the  mediaeval 
"  Legend  of  Two  Friends."  The  table  on  pages 
258  ff.  shows  the  material  and  its  articulation  (as 
far  as  it  has  any)  in  each  version;  and  shows, 
too,  the  striking  difference  between  "Athis  et 
Prophilias "  and  all  the  other  versions  before 
Boccaccio.  This  is  a  difference  in  kind.  The 
other  versions  are  excessively  bald  and  jejune. 
"  Athis  et  Prophilias "  is  rich  in  matter,  and 
highly  developed  in  narrative  art.  In  it,  and  in 

18  S.  L.  Wolff,  "  A  Source  of  Euphues  "  (Modern  Philol- 
ogy, April,  1910),  gives  the  proofs  in  full.  M.  Feuillerat 
("  John  Lyly,"  pp.  34  n.  2,  74-5,  274-5)  asserts  that  the 
love-story  in  "  Euphues  "  is  autobiographical.  The  passage 
in  Forman's  diary  upon  the  strength  of  which  M.  Feuillerat, 
almost  without  argument,  makes  this  assertion,  is,  to  say 
the  least,  unconvincing.  But  even  supposing  the  material 
of  the  love-story  to  come  from  Lyly's  life,  the  form  of  it — 
its  articulation,  pathos,  soliloquy,  dialogue — comes  from 
Boccaccio.  Mr.  J.  D.  Wilson's  convincing  article,  "  Euphues 
and  the  Prodigal  Son"  (The  Library,  October,  1909),  does 
not  negative  my  conclusions.  It  demonstrates,  rather,  that 
one  strand  more  of  literary  tradition,  besides  those  already 
recognized,  enters  into  the  composition  of  "  Euphues." 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION.  251 

it  alone,  is  there  any  descriptive  "setting" 
(Athens  and  Rome),  any  division  of  the  plot 
into  stages  and  scenes,  any  attempt  at  character- 
ization by  means  of  dialogue,  soliloquy,  or  pathos. 
It  is  evidently  Boccaccio's  chief  source.2  When 
it  differs  from  his  other  source, — the  "  Disciplina 
Clericalis  " — Boccaccio  prefers  "  Athis  et  Proph- 
ilias"  in  all  but  three  cases  (*in  the  table). 
Perhaps  it  would  be  truer  to  say  that  the  story  in 
the  "Disciplina"  differs  chiefly  from  "Athis  et 
Prophilias "  in  being  so  crudely  told  as  simply 
not  to  offer  Boccaccio  the  narrative  material  and 
articulation  that  he  wants.  Boccaccio,  then,  tak- 
ing from  the  "  Disciplina  "  several  details  towards 
the  end  of  his  story,  takes  nearly  everything  else 
from  "  Athis  et  Prophilias  " ;  takes,  indeed,  those 
very  details  of  articulation  and  pathos, — the  visit 
to  the  betrothed,  the  soliloquy,  the  conflict  between 
love  and  friendship,  the  inquiry,  the  dissimulation, 
etc., — which  later,  Lyly  gets  from  "  Tito  and 
Gisippo." 

In  all  probability  these  details — conventions 
they  almost  seem  to  be — come  from  a  lost  Byzan- 
tine novel.  Grimm  ("Kleinere  Schriften,"  Vol. 
Ill),  concluding  his  discussion  of  the  Second 
Part  of  "Athis  et  Prophilias"  (a  regular  romance 
of  chivalry,  not  here  tabulated),  remarks  (pp. 
269-270):  "Der  erste  Theil  dagegen  [the  Part 
we  are  here  concerned  with]  zeigt  die  vornehmen 
und  uberfeinerten  Sitten  des  griechischen  Kaiser- 
thums,  ausseres  Geprage  und  zur  Schau  getra- 

*  Landau's  and  Lee's  treatments  of  the  sources  of  De- 
cameron, X.  8,  quite  fail  to  do  justice  to  "Athis  et 
Prophilias." 


252  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

gene  Tugenden  " ;  and  (p.  274)  "  Ich  vermuthe, 
die  urspriingliche  Quelle  dieses  ersten  Theiles  ist 
eine  neugriechische  Bearbeitung  der  Sage  von  den 
beiden  Freunden  gewesen,  abgefasst  etwa  im 
elf  ten  Jahrhundert  .  .  .  Eine  Spur  des  ver- 
mutheten  byzantinischen  Werks  aufzufinden  habe 
ich  mich  jedoch  vergeblich  bemiiht." 

Gaston  Paris  ("La  Litt.  fr.  au  Moyen  Age," 
§51)  is  quite  certain  that  "Athis  et  Prophilias" 
has  a  Greek  original:  "  ...  A  partir  des  croi- 
sades,  les  rapports  des  Francs  avec  les  Grecs 
devinrent  directs,  et  plusieurs  romans,  qui  n'ex- 
istent  plus  en  grec,  mais  que  differents  indices 
nous  permettent  de  reconnaitre  comme  byzantins, 
furent  mis  en  franc,ais  sans  passer  par  le  latin,  et 
sans  doute  grace  a  une  transmission  simplement 
orale.  Tels  sont.  .  .  .  Athis  et  Porphirias  [sic: 
this  is  one  form  of  the  name]  par  Alexandre  de 
Bernai  ...  ;  la  deuxieme  partie  de  ce  tres  long 
poeme  parait  une  suite  d'aventures  de  pure  in- 
vention :  la  premiere  est  un  conte  grec  dont  nous 
avons  diverses  formes  (une  entre  autres  dans  le 
Decameron  de  Boccace}." 

And  Rohde  ("Der  Gr.  Rom.,"  p.  541,  n.  2) 
thinks  that  Boccaccio  may  have  been  in  im- 
mediate contact  with  the  Greek.  He  queries: 
"  Ob  nicht  fur  seine  Darstellung  der  Sage  von 
Athis  und  Prophilias,  Decam.  X  8,  Boccaccio  ein 
mittelgriechisches  Gedicht  benutzt  haben  mag, 
welches  zu  dem  uns  erhaltenen  altfranzosischen 
Gedicht  iiber  diesen  Gegenstand  eine  Parallele 
bildete?" 

Upon  the  possible  existence  of  a  Greek  original 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION.  253 

a  curious  light  is  shed — a  light  which  may  per- 
haps be  only  the  light  of  a  will-o'-the-wisp, — by 
Goldsmith's  version  of  the  tale  (see  last  column 
of  table).  This  differs  in  so  many  particulars 
from  every  other  version  with  which  I  am  ac- 
quainted, that  it  may  quite  possibly  be  derived 
from  some  source  other  than  "  Tito  and  Gisippo." 
Goldsmith,  whether  truly  or  falsely,  professes  that 
it  is  "  Translated  from  a  Byzantine  Historian." 
The  table  shows  sufficiently  its  plot  and  struc- 
ture. Some  details,  however,  seem  worth  com- 
ment. ( i )  The  story  opens  as  follows :  "  Athens, 
long  after  the  decline  of  the  Roman  Empire,  still 
continued  the  seat  of  learning,  politeness,  and 
wisdom.  Theodoric,  the  Ostrogoth,  repaired  the 
schools  which  barbarity  was  suffering  to  fall  into 
decay,  and  continued  .  .  .  pensions  to  men  of 
learning.  ...  In  this  city,  and  about  this  period, 
Alcander  and  Septimius  were  fellow  students 
together.  .  .  .  Alcander  was  of  Athens,  Septi- 
mius came  from  Rome."  The  historical  setting, 
then,  is  consistently  placed  within  Byzantine 
times.  (2)  When  Septimius,  who  had  been  on 
the  point  of  dying  for  love  of  Alcander's  be- 
trothed, Hypatia,  was  at  length  married  to  her, 
"  this  unlocked  for  change  of  fortune,"  says  the 
story,  "  wrought  as  unexpected  a  change  in  the 
constitution  of  the  now  happy  Septimius " — a 
trait  of  style  quite  characteristic  of  Greek  Ro- 
mance. (3)  Further  emphasis  is  thrown  upon 
Fortune  by  the  lack  of  emphasis  upon  friendship. 
As  Septimius  does  not  recognize  Alcander  until 
the  latter  has  already  been  cleared  by  the  con- 


254  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

fession  of  the  real  murderer,  Septimius  does  not 
accuse  himself  to  save  his  friend,  and  there  is  no 
generous  contest  between  them  as  to  which  shall 
die  to  save  the  other.  (4)  Alcander's  retreat  to 
a  tomb  is  in  the  vein  of  Greek  Romance  (cf. 
"Habrocomes  and  Anthea,"  and  "  Babylonica"). 
(5)  So  is  Alcander's  being  sold  into  slavery  (cf. 
Leucippe's  enslavement).  (6)  That  one  friend 
should  actually  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  other, 
and,  without  recognizing  him,  be  about  to  con- 
demn him  to  death,  is  again  the  characteristically 
bizarre  final  trial  scene  of  Greek  Romance  (cf. 
Chariclea,  restored  to  her  father,  and,  unrecog- 
nized, condemned  to  death  by  him).  (7)  The 
points  where  Goldsmith  professes  to  have 
abridged  his  original  are  precisely  those  at  which 
diffuseness  would  have  been  characteristic  of 
Greek  Romance.  "It  would  but  delay  the  nar- 
rative to  describe  the  conflict  between  love  and 
friendship  in  the  breast  of  Alcander  on  this  oc- 
casion. ...  In  short,  forgetful  of  his  own 
felicity,  he  gave  up  his  intended  bride."  This 
points  backward  to  long  soliloquies,  and  long 
psychological  analyses  of  his  "  conflicting  emo- 
tions." Later,  when  he  was  prosecuted  by  Hypa- 
tia's  kinsmen,  "  his  innocence  of  the  crime  laid  to 
his  charge,  and  even  his  eloquence  in  his  own 
defense,  were  not  able  to  withstand  the  influence 
of  a  powerful  party."  This  points  backward  to 
the  long  forensic  harangue  which,  if  Goldsmith 
really  used  a  Byzantine  original,  might  well  have 
been  there.  Finally,  after  Alcander's  escape  from 
Thrace,  "travelling  by  night,  and  lodging  in 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION.  255 

caverns  by  day,  to  shorten  a  long  story,  he  at 
last  arrived  in  Rome."  This  points  backward  to 
a  Reiseroman.  All  three  of  the  matters  which 
Goldsmith  perhaps  abridged — analysis  of  emo- 
tion, forensic  harangue,  and  the  moving  accidents 
of  travel — are  just  the  kind  of  thing  that  is 
actually  found  in  excess  in  Greek  Romance. 
Either  Goldsmith  had  made  so  thorough  a  study 
of  this  genre  as  to  be  able  to  put  his  ringer  ac- 
curately upon  its  characteristics,  and  to  modify 
accordingly  (when  he  wished  to  manufacture  an 
imitation)  the  material  he  found  in  some  non- 
Byzantine  version,  or — he  was  telling  the  truth. 
There  is  nothing  inherently  improbable  in  the  sup- 
position that  while  reading  widely  for  one  of  his 
hack  Histories,  Goldsmith  did  come  across  this 
tale  in  some  "  Byzantine  Historian." 


This  rather  complicated  discussion,  which  has 
wandered  far  from  Lyly,  may  now  be  recapitu- 
lated : 

(a)  Lyly's  "Euphues"  gets  its  earlier  portion 
— both  narrative  material  and  narrative  structure 
— from  Boccaccio's  "  Tito  and  Gisippo." 

(6)  Boccaccio's  "Tito  and  Gisippo"  gets  this 
same  narrative  material  and  narrative  structure 
from  "Athis  et  Prophilias." 

(c)  "Athis  et  Prophilias"  probably  gets  its 
narrative  material  and  narrative  structure  from  a 
lost  Greek  Romance.     At  least,  so  think  Grimm 
and  Gaston  Paris. 

(d)  Besides  using  "Athis  et  Prophilias,"  Boc- 
caccio may  have  been  in  immediate  contact  with 


256  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

its  Greek  original,  and  may  have  derived  directly 
therefrom  some  of  this  narrative  material  and 
narrative  structure.  At  least,  so  thinks  Rohde. 

(e)  The  Greek  original  of  "Athis  et  Prophi- 
lias"  and  of  "Tito  and  Gisippo,"  or  another 
Byzantine  version  of  the  same  theme,  may  have 
been  used  by  Oliver  Goldsmith. 

On  the  whole,  it  seems  easier  to  believe  than 
not  to  believe  that  "  Euphues  "  is  one  of  a  series 
of  tales  the  conventions  of  whose  structure  are  a 
tradition  from  Greek  Romance.3 

8  It  is  rather  a  temptation  to  think  that  Lyly's  style, 
"  Euphuism,"  owes  something  to  that  of  the  Greek  Ro- 
mances. I  have,  however,  found  no  direct  evidence  on 
this  point.  The  similarities,  striking  as  they  often  are,  can 
probably  be  explained  as  due  to  the  general  diffusion  of 
Ciceronian  and  late  Greek  rhetoric  throughout  Europe 
during  the  Renaissance.  To  this  rhetorical  material  the 
Greek  Romances  undoubtedly  contribute ;  but  it  would  be 
difficult  to  say  just  what.  Nevertheless  the  following  pas- 
sages suggest  Achilles  Tatius  rather  specifically. 

Euphues,  I.  322-3  :  "  If  it  were  for  thy  preferment  and 
his  amendment,  I  wish  you  were  both  married,  but  if  he 
should  continue  his  folly  whereby  thou  shouldest  fal  from 
thy  dutie  I  rather  wish  you  both  buryed."  (Antithesis: 
marriage  and  burial.) 

Euphues,  I.  210.  Euphues  soliloquizes:  "  The  wound  that 
bleedeth  inwarde  is  most  dangerous,  .  .  .  the  fire  kept  close 
burneth  most  furious,  .  .  .  the  Ooven  dammed  up  baketh 
soonest,  .  .  .  sores  having  no  vent  fester  inwardly  .  .  ." 
Cf.  A.  T.,  II.  xxix  ad  fin  (cf.  III.  xi ;  VII.  iv). 

Euphues,  I.  201:  "And  so  they  all  sate  downe,  but 
Euphues  fed  of  one  dish  which  ever  stoode  before  him,  the 
beautie  of  Lucilla."  Cf.  A.  T.,  I.  v(Clitophon  at  first  sight 
of  Leucippe  cannot  eat,  but  makes  his  meal  of  contemplat- 
ing her  beauty).  V.  xiii  (Melitta  makes  her  meal  of  con- 
templating Clitophon). 

Euphues.  I.  208  :  Euphues  retiring  love-sick  to  his  cham- 
ber, "  Amiddest  therefore  these  his  extremityes  between 
hope  and  feare,"  soliloquizes.  Cf.  A.  T.,  II.  xxiii  (Clito- 
phon in  Leucippe's  chamber)  and  cf.  VI.  xiv  (Clitophon  in 
prison). 


258 


THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 


Oliver  Goldsmith  : 

~         .                        V            ^ 

Septimius  and  Al- 

cander.     In  The 

Bee,  No.  i.  1759. 

Lyly  :  Euphues. 

8  5  c  ! 
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t>  >, 

!l  ^^       ^ 

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0    0 

Sir  "I  homas  Elyot  : 
The  Governor. 

V*          ^             >,    V    V*    V    V 

1531-   Bk.  II,  ch.  12. 

Boccaccio  :  Decani.    ^  v 

X.  8:    Tito  and          r*J*               ^           ^ 

\^       "^X^                  Nfc 

Gisippo.     1353. 

0                  O 

o               o                    o 

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x              x 

v                         x 

Circ.  1200. 

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O                    O                            O 

El  Cavallero  Cifar. 
Early  i4th  Cent. 

V-                                        V^ 

Nicolaus  Perga- 
menus  :  Dialogus 
Creaturarum. 
I3th  or  i4th  Cent. 

"  De  duobus  sociis,  quorum  unus  concessit  alteri 
•"•                      sponsam  suam  uxorem." 

Thomas  de  Cantim- 

^                                   ^ 

pre  :  De  Proprieta- 
tibus  Apum.    After 

1251. 

Gesta  Romanorum 

^ 

(Acknowledges 

Disc.  Cler.  as 

source). 

Petrus  Alphonsus  : 

=Lo-:- 

Disciplina  Cleri- 

>~^§0  i23  o 

^fc 

calis.     Circ.  1106. 

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gs&g-sjli'g.^-is! 

HO             <          H 

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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION 


359 


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gls«:s«l«*JlS£j.s&i 


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a6o 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


Oliver  Goldsmith  : 
Septimius  and  Al- 
cander.  In  The 
Bee,  No.  i,  1579. 


"-i.M'B  «.J>.2  0*3  o 
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i     T<  s  ^.tjs  a  a  ,. 

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SJ?82£2 


Lyly :  Euphues. 
1578. 


Sir  Thomas  Elyot  : 

The  Governor. 
1531.  Bk.  II,  ch.  12. 


Boccaccio :  Decam. 
X.  8 :    Tito  and 
Gisippo.     1353. 


Athis  et  Prophilias. 
Circ.  1200. 


El  Cavallero  Cifar. 
Early  I4th  Cent. 


Nicolaus  Perga- 
menus :  Dialogus 

Crcaturarum. 
i3th  or  i4th  Cent. 


Thomas  de  Cantim- 

pre  :  De  Proprieta- 

tibus  Apunt.    After 

1251. 


v  o  2   ,   o 

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Gesta  Romanorum 

( Acknowledges 

Disc.  Clcr.  as 

Source). 


Petrus  Alphonsus : 
Disciplina  Cleri- 
calis.  Circ.  1106. 


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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  26 1 


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At  the  time,  B  and  his  wife 
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•££ 

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J3    S 

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2  o< 
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rt  ^f> 
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A  murder  is  committed. 
A  is  apprehended,  and  in  his 
confesses  in  order  to  die;  J 
place  of  judgment,  recogn 
and  accuses  himself. 

A  and  B  contend  as  to  whic 
die  for  the  other. 
Murderer  confesses. 
Murderer  is  pardoned. 
Murderers  are  discovered  by 

of  their  own  talk  overhean 

are  executed. 

0 

- 

"o 

1) 

0 

'o 
j: 
u 

OJ 

.fi 
< 

CA 

1 
C 

with  him,  or  returning  to 
city,  enriched. 

A  remains  and  becomes  a  ci 
B's  city. 

A  marries  B's  sister. 

A  returns  to  his  own  city,  en 
A  is  restored  to  his  city  by 
gathers  an  army  and  punis 
kinsmen. 

CHAPTER   II 

SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY 

In  view  of  the  detailed  discussion,  in  the  pres- 
ent chapter,  of  the  plot,  motifs  and  narrative 
structure  of  Sidney's  "  Arcadia,"  it  seems  well  to 
give  here  a  rather  full  analysis.1 

MAIN  PLOT 

A.  Basilius,  the  aged  King  of  Arcadia,  receives  in 
Delphos  an  Oracle  (mentioned,  I.  iii-iv,  12-16;  given 
in  full  II.  xxviii,  225v.),  which  declares  that  his 
elder  daughter  shall  be  stolen  from  him  and  yet  not 
lost;  that  his  younger  shall  embrace  an  unnatural 
love;  that  their  husbands  shall  plead  at  his  bier 
though  he  be  not  dead;  that  a  foreign  prince  shall 
sit  on  his  throne;  and  that,  before  all  this,  Basilius 
shall  commit  adultery  with  his  own  wife.  To  avoid 
fulfilment  of  this  oracle,  he  retires  to  the  forest 
with  his  family,  leaving  as  regent  his  faithful  coun- 
cillor Philanax.  His  younger  daughter  Philoclea 
he  keeps  in  his  own  lodge  guarded  by  himself  and 
his  young  Queen  Gynecia;  his  elder  daughter  Pa- 

1  References  containing  chapter-numbers,  e.  g.,  "  I.  xvii, 
75v.,"  are  to  book,  chapter  and  folio  of  the  Quarto  of  1590. 
After  folio-numbers,  "v."  indicates  verso;  its  absence, 
recto. 

References  not  containing  chapter-numbers,  e.  g.,  "  IV. 
419,"  are  to  book  and  page  of  the  Folio  of  1627. 

Cross-references  within  the  analysis  are  based  on  the  fol- 
lowing system :  portions  of  the  Main  Plot  are  lettered  A,  B, 
etc. ;  portions  of  the  Previous  History  of  the  Princes  are 
lettered  a,  b,  etc. ;  Episodes  are  numbered  /,  2,  3,  etc.,  with 
subdivisions  lettered  a,  b,  etc. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  263 

mela  he  commits  to  the  guardianship  of  his  chief 
shepherd  Dametas,  who  lives  in  another  lodge  with 
his  wife  Miso  and  daughter  Mopsa.  All  men  of 
rank  are  forbidden  access  to  the  princesses  (I.  ix, 

36). 

B.  (I.  xiii-xiv,  57-64V.)    Pyrocles,  Prince  of  Mace- 
don,  having  fallen  in  love  with  the  picture  and  de- 
scription   of    Philoclea,    disguises    himself    as    an 
Amazon  and  betakes  himself  to  the  neighborhood 
of  Basilius's  lodge.    The  King,  in  love  with  the  fair 
Amazon  at  sight,  asks  her  to  remain.    Gynecia  pene- 
trates Pyrocles's  disguise,  and  falls  desperately  in 
love    with    him.      Though    she    is    jealous    of    her 
daughter,  her  love  prevents  her  disclosing  her  dis- 
covery.   His  name  as  the  Amazon  is  Zelmane. 

C.  (I.    xviii,   76v.~79v.)     Musidorus,    Prince    of 
Thessalia,  and  Pyrocles's  cousin  and  friend,  beholds 
Pamela,  and  falls  in  love  with  her.     Not  long  there- 
after Pyrocles  finds  him  disguised  as  a  shepherd. 
His    shepherd's    weeds    he    has    bought    from    the 
herdsman   Menalcas,  who,  he   feels,  must  now  be 
put    out    of    the    way,    lest    he    betray    him.      So 
Musidorus   says    he   is    a   fugitive    from   Thessaly, 
where  by  chance  he  has  killed  a  favorite  of  the 
Prince;  and  he  sends  Menalcas  to  Thessaly  with  a 
letter  to  his  friend  and  servant  Calodoulus  osten- 
sibly inquiring  about  the  chances  for  his  return,  but 
really  directing  Calodoulus  to  detain  Menalcas,  as  a 
prisoner,  and  treat  him  well.     (For  Calodoulus  as 
deus  ex  machina,  see  V.  417,  ed.  1627.) 

Upon  the  occasion  of  the  annual  pastoral  games 
(I.  xix,  8ov.-85v.),  he  offers  his  service  (and  a 
sum  of  money)  to  Dametas,  feigning  himself  to 
have  been  recommended  to  D.  by  his  elder  brother 
the  shepherd  Menalcas,  and  by  his  father,  both  dead. 
His  own  name,  he  says,  is  Dorus.  Dametas  agrees 


264  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

to  take  him  if  he  that  day  prove  acceptable  to  the 
King.  A  lion  attacking  Philoclea  is  killed  by  Zel- 
mane;  a  bear  attacking  Pamela  is  killed  by  Dorus. 
The  King  willingly  grants  Dorus  permission  to  re- 
main with  Dametas.  Thereupon  they  all  go  to  hear 
The  First  Eclogues. 

Both  Gynecia  and  Basilius  (II.  i,  100,  loiv.)  make 
a  declaration  of  love  to  Zelmane.  Dorus  pretends 
to  court  Mopsa  in  order  really  to  court  Pamela  (II. 
ii,  IO4V.-IO7V.),  who  gives  him  such  signs  of  favor 
as  to  encourage  him  to  tell  her  the  story  of  his 
life  (II.  iii,  IOQV.-III),  purporting  to  be  the  story 
of  Musidorus,  a  prince  of  Thessaly.  He  ends  his 
very  brief  recital  (of  the  early  portions  of  a,  and 
of  d)  by  asserting  that  the  Prince  is  disguised  as  a 
shepherd  for  love  of  the  Princess  Pamela,  and  that 
the  end  of  his  story  is  not  yet,  but  belongs  to  the 
destinies  and  to  astrology. 

When  the  two  sisters  are  abed  together  (II.  v, 
I2I-I22V.),  Pamela  confesses  to  Philoclea  her  love 
for  Musidorus,  whose  indirect  self-revelation  and 
courtship  she  has  of  course  understood  without  let- 
ting him  see  that  she  has  done  so,  or  giving  him 
any  mark  of  favor.  On  the  morrow  (II.  vi,  I25v., 
II.  x,  I47v.)  she  calls  him  to  give  an  account  of 
the  parentage  and  early  life  of  Pyrocles  and  Musi- 
dorus. He  relates  a,  lapsing  once  (f  137)  into  the 
first  person,  to  his  confusion  and  Pamela's  amuse- 
ment. 

D.  (II.  xi,  I47V.-I55)  The  princesses  bathe  in  the 
river  Ladon.  A  water-spaniel  [see  I.  xi,  49  (^&)] 
which  has  been  playing  among  the  reeds,  runs  off 
with  Philoclea's  glove;  and  leads  Zelmane  to  his 
master  Amphialus,  who  in  his  solitary  wanderings 
has  chanced  upon  this  spot,  and  been  taken  captive 
by  the  charms  of  his  cousin  Philoclea.  Zelmane  in 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  265 

a  jealous  fury  forces  him  to  fight,  and  wounds  him 
in  the  thigh,  promising  that  her  near  kinsman 
Pyrocles  shall  further  uphold  that  quarrel.  The 
Princesses  now  being  dressed  come  up  and  recog- 
nize their  cousin.  He  excuses  himself,  restores  the 
glove,  and  retires  to  nurse  both  his  wounds. 

Pyrocles  reads  Plangus's  plaint  for  Erona  (II. 
xii,  !56-i58v.),  as  written  down  by  Basilius  when 
Plangus  recently  passed  through  Arcadia.  At  his 
request  (II.  xiii,  i6o-i62v.)  Philoclea  tells  50  (which 
Pyrocles  knows  already,  as  he  has  been  a  chief 
actor  in  these  events)  ;  and  he  calls  upon  Pamela 
to  tell  the  story  of  Plangus;  but  is  interrupted  (II. 
xiv,  163-166)  by  Miso  with  an  account  of  an  em- 
blematic picture  she  once  saw  of  Love  as  a  monster, 
and  by  Mopsa  with  a  clumsy  fairy-tale.  Philoclea 
having  induced  Mopsa  to  reserve  the  ending  of  the 
tale  (II.  xv,  166-172),  Pamela  tells  6a.  She  is  just 
coming  to  the  story  of  Antiphilus's  treason  to  Erona, 
when  Basilius  comes  in,  and  again  puts  off  the  con- 
clusion. Basilius  commissions  Philoclea  to  plead  his 
cause  (II.  xvi,  I72v.-i75v). 

Pyrocles-Zelmane  is  lamenting  on  Ladon's  bank 
and  writing  his  plaint  on  the  sand,  when  Philoclea 
finds  him  (II.  xvii,  I76-I79V.)  and  begins  Basilius's 
plea.  He  interrupts  her  with  his  own,  reveals  his 
love,  and  is  assured  of  hers.  He  also  declares  his 
name  and  rank.  At  her  request,  he  then  takes  up 
the  narrative  of  the  adventures  of  Pyrocles  and 
Musidorus,  from  the  point  where  Musidorus  left 
off  a  (II.  x,  147)  and  where  Philoclea  herself  had 
suspended  the  account  she  had  received  from  Plan- 
gus, 50  (II.  xiv,  :62v.).  Pyrocles's  continuation  is  b. 

E.  Pyrocles  having  finished  his  narrative  (II. 
xviii-xxiv),  Philoclea  resumes  Erona's  story  (II. 
xxiv,  212),  but  he  interrupts  her  with  his  love  mak- 


266  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

ing,  and  Miso  interrupts  with  scolding  and  threats. 

Gynecia  (II.  xxv,  213-214)  has  just  had  an  ill- 
boding  dream,  when  Miso  tells  her  that  Zelmane 
and  Philoclea  have  been  together  alone.  Love  and 
jealousy  conflict  in  Gynecia's  heart;  she  soliloquizes, 
and,  hastening  to  the  young  people,  sends  Philoclea 
away  to  Basilius.  Gynecia  is  beginning  to  declare 
her  passion  to  Pyrocles  (II.  xxv,  2i4v.-2i6),  when 
a  rout  of  drunken  and  rebellious  clowns  comes  up 
and  attacks  them.  Pyrocles  keeps  the  rebels  at  bay 
until  the  ladies  have  made  good  their  retreat  to  the 
lodge.  Musidorus  comes  to  his  cousin's  assistance, 
and  together  they  perform  prodigies  of  valor. 

The  populace  attack  the  lodge  with  axe  and  fire 
(II.  xxvi,  216-220)  ;  Zelmane  goes  out,  mounts  the 
throne  near  the  gate,  and  in  a  long  and  eloquent 
harangue  brings  them  to  the  point  of  submission. 
At  this  (II.  xxvii,  220-224),  one  Clinias,  a  sly, 
plausible  fellow  with  a  smattering  of  education  and 
a  gift  of  words,  who  has  been  an  actor,  who  is  now 
Cecropia's  tool  to  stir  up  sedition  in  Arcadia  for 
the  advancement  of  her  son  Amphialus,  and  who 
indeed  has  incited  this  very  insurrection,  sees  his 
chance  to  swim  with  the  stream;  he  loudly  admon- 
ishes the  insurgents  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and 
behave  as  he  and  other  faithful  subjects  have  all 
along  advised ! 

A  certain  young  farmer,  who  has  become  enam- 
ored of  Zelmane,  has  hopes  that  if  the  insurgents 
win,  Zelmane  will  be  granted  to  him.  Now  he 
strikes  Clinias  a  great  wound  upon  the  face, — who 
scrambles  to  the  throne  and  is  protected  by  Zel- 
mane. At  the  farmer's  blow,  the  mob  is  in  an 
uproar.  Every  man's  hand  is  against  his  neighbor; 
the  leaders  are  soon  killed,  the  farmer  among  them; 
and  Zelmane,  Basilius  and  Dorus  complete  their 
rout 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  267 

Clinias  now  accounts  for  the  insurrection  as 
merely  a  piece  of  drunken  folly,  the  result  of  the 
people's  excessive  potations  the  day  before  in  honor 
of  the  King's  birthday.  He  is  believed  and  dismissed. 
Basilius  sends  to  Philanax  for  a  conference,  and 
to  other  noblemen  to  investigate  the  insurrection. 

(II.  xxviii,  224-227)  Clinias  hurries  away  to  warn 
Cecropia  that  the  investigation  bodes  danger  to  her, 
and  that  she  had  better  take  some  speedy  resolution. 
Basilius  contemplates  returning  to  public  life,  as  he 
considers  that  the  most  threatening  portions  of  the 
oracle — the  text  of  which  he  now  (225v.)  for  the 
first  time  gives  Philanax  (and  the  reader) — have 
already  been  happily  fulfilled:  princely  Zelmane  by 
occupying  his  mind  has  taken  from  him  the  care  of 
his  elder  daughter  Pamela,  who  yet  is  not  lost;  his 
younger  has  come  to  love  Zelmane  at  his  command, 
but  that  love  was  hated  by  Nature — viz.,  by  Gynecia's 
natural  jealousy;  the  sitting  in  his  seat  he  dreams 
already  performed  by  Zelmane  when  she  mounted 
his  throne  to  confront  the  insurgents ;  the  adultery 
he  hopes  to  commit  with  Zelmane,  whom  afterwards 
he  will  have  to  wife.  As  for  his  daughters'  mar- 
riage to  such  dangerous  husbands, — that  he  will  pre- 
vent by  keeping  them  unmarried.  So  he  sings  a 
Hymn  to  Apollo,  bids  the  shepherds  prepare  for 
rural  pastimes,  and  relates  to  Zelmane  (II.  xxix, 
227v.-233v.)  the  story,  so  long  deferred,  of  Erona's 
distress  (56).  The  shepherds  open  their  "Second 
Eclogues." 

(III.  i,  244-247V.)  Moved  by  Musidorus's  recent 
danger,  Pamela  gives  him  signs  of  her  love;  by 
which  encouraged  he  offers  to  kiss  her.  She  puts 
him  away  in  deep  disdain  and  offense.  Despairing 
he  retires  to  the  forest. 

[Now  follows  the  long  Episode  of  the  Captivity: 
8.  The  Main  Plot  is  afterwards  resumed  in  the 


268  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Folio  of  1627,  which  is  not  divided  into  chapters; 
so  that  the  absence  here  of  references  to  chapters 
will  suffice  to  show  that  the  citation  is  from  this 
edition.] 

BOOK  III 

F-  (347-350)  After  Basilius  has  received  his 
daughters  and  Zelmane  back  from  their  captivity 
(see  8),  and  has  returned  to  his  retirement  at  the 
lodges,  Zelmane  and  Dorus  tell  each  other  their  ad- 
ventures ;  and  the  latter  discloses  a  plan  that  he  and 
Pamela  have  formed  to  elope  from  the  nearest  sea- 
port, and  remain  virgin  till  he  can  invest  her  with 
the  Dukedom  of  Thessalia.  The  Princes,  with  much 
courtly  protestation  of  friendship,  resolve  to  part. 

Zelmane  (351-354)  on  her  way  to  Dorus's  lodg- 
ing enters  a  cave,  and  perceives  a  lady  lying  pros- 
trate in  a  corner  and  dolefully  soliloquizing.  In  the 
course  of  her  lament,  the  lady  names  herself:  it  is 
Gynecia !  Zelmane  hastily  retreating  makes  a  noise 
and  is  discovered.  Gynecia  holds  Zelmane  back, 
pleads  for  love,  declares  that  she  has  penetrated 
Pyrocles's  disguise,  and  threatens  that  if  he  still 
disdains  her,  her  vengeance  shall  involve  Philoclea 
as  well  as  him  and  herself.  Pyrocles  decides  that 
his  only  course  is  to  yield. 

Meanwhile  (355-6)  Musidorus  has  hired  a  ship 
at  the  port,  and  a  carriage  to  go  there:  all  that  re- 
mains is  to  get  Dametas,  Miso  and  Mopsa  out  of 
the  way.  To  Dametas  he  tells  a  tale  of  one  Aristo- 
menes's  treasure  which  he  has  partly  unearthed,  at 
a  place  ten  miles  away  in  a  direction  opposite  that 
of  the  seaport :  there  are  rich  medals,  and  a  cypress 
chest,  and,  further  down,  a  stone  whose  hollow 
sound  promises  a  still  richer  vault.  Thither  Da- 
metas betakes  himself,  and  is  duly  encouraged  by 
finding  the  medals  with  which  Musidorus  has  "  salted 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  269 

the  mine."  To  Miso  (357-9),  as  soon  as  her  hus- 
band is  gone,  Musidorus  tells  how  he  has  seen 
Dametas  dallying  with  a  pretty  shepherdess  Charita. 
They  have  made  an  assignation  for  that  very  night 
in  Oudemia  Street,  Mantinea !  Off  hurries  the  jealous 
shrew.  Now  for  Mopsa, — whom  Musidorus  would 
readily  tie  up  if  Pamela  did  not  say  No.  So  he  tells 
Mopsa  (360-361)  that  Apollo,  after  his  servitude 
to  Admetus,  having  been  received  back  by  Jupiter 
from  the  top  of  a  neighboring  ash  tree,  has  made  it 
a  wishing  tree.  Whoever  in  the  state  of  a  shepherd 
will  sit  in  this  tree,  muffled  in  a  scarlet  cloak,  shall 
have  his  wish,  as  sure  as  Musidorus  loves  Mopsa! 
He  leaves  her  perched  on  the  tree-top,  so  muffled 
that  she  can  not  undo  the  cloak,  and  so  high  that  she 
can  scarce  get  down  without  help.  There  she  is  to 
remain  till  a  voice  calls  her  three  times:  then  she 
is  to  answer  boldly. 

The  lovers  (361-5)  ride  off  through  the  forest, 
till  Pamela,  tired  out,  rests  her  head  on  Musidorus's 
knee  and  falls  asleep.  While  he  contemplates  her 
charms  a  crew  of  clownish  villains  comes  shout- 
ing in. 

Pyrocles  in  the  cave  with  Gynecia  (365-7)  con- 
fesses himself  a  man  and  a  Prince,  acknowledges 
his  love  for  Philoclea,  but  feigns  that  it  can  not 
compare  with  his  passion  for  Gynecia;  who  gives 
a  half  promise  that  her  daughter  shall  be  the  price 
of  his  complaisance.  This  Pyrocles  promises,  and 
then  draws  Gynecia  from  the  cave  lest  she  insist 
upon  an  immediate  consummation. 

Pyrocles  muses  (372-4)  all  night  how  to  rid  him- 
self of  his  two  unwelcome  lovers,  till  he  begins  to 
see  the  outlines  of  a  stratagem.  At  dinner  that  day, 
in  the  presence  of  both  King  and  Queen,  he  gives 
such  signs  of  favor  that  the  King  (375-377)  asks 


270  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

the  Queen  to  look  after  Philoclea,  who  has  taken 
to  her  bed  in  despair  at  Pyrocles's  pretended  aban- 
donment of  her.  Alone  with  Basilius,  Pyrocles  ap- 
points that  night  for  a  rendezvous  in  the  cave. 
Then  he  steps  to  Philoclea's  room,  and,  still  feign- 
ing indifference  toward  her,  takes  Gynecia  aside  into 
a  bay  window  and  appoints  for  her  the  same  time 
and  place.  Each — both  King  and  Queen — is  to  make 
sure  that  the  other  is  asleep.  After  supper,  which 
all  three  hasten  through,  Gynecia  pretends  to  be 
unwell,  and  goes  to  bed,  in  order  to  set  Basilius  a 
good  example — who  is  indeed  well  pleased  at  her 
early  retirement.  But  now  Pyrocles  takes  her  once 
more  aside  (378-380),  and  as  if  by  way  of  after- 
thought, suggests  that  she  may  with  greater  ease 
be  first  in  the  cave ;  she  is  to  take  his  outer  garment, 
let  she  rouse  suspicion;  he  himself,  muffled  in  her 
garments,  as  a  sick  woman  might  plausibly  be,  will 
lie  by  Basilius's  side  until  the  King  sleeps,  and  then 
will  steal  away  to  the  cave  and  to  her.  Confused 
by  the  suddenness  of  the  plan,  and  his  quick  offer 
of  his  outer  garments,  and  induced  by  the  thought 
that  the  grantor  must  be  allowed  his  own  way  of 
granting,  she  yields,  giving  him,  as  is  needful,  the 
key  of  the  lodge, — the  object  of  his  stratagem. 
So  Pyrocles  lies  down  in  the  King's  bed  with  head 
and  face  hidden.  Gynecia  happening  upon  an  old 
love-philtre,  which  she  has  never  used,  now  pours 
it  into  a  jewelled  cup  to  make  sure  of  Pyrocles, 
and  goes  with  it  to  the  cave,  where  she  lies  ex- 
pectant. Meanwhile  Basilius,  who  has  waited  in 
Philoclea's  room  till  Gynecia  should  be  asleep,  creeps 
darkling  to  his  chamber,  treading  softly,  collid- 
ing with  sharp  corners  everywhere,  and  in  fear  at 
every  creak  he  makes.  Where  assuring  himself 
that  his  bedfellow  sleeps,  he  steals  forth  to  the  cave. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  *7l 

He  enters  the  bed  and,  calling  upon  the  name  of 
Zelmane,  embraces  her  he  finds  there;  who  dares 
not  reveal  who  she  is,  and  so  receives  him  gently. 

As  soon  as  Basilius  is  gone,  Pyrocles  bars  the 
gate,  (381-387),  and  fortifies  the  lodge  as  well  as 
he  can  impromptu,  in  order  that  his  and  Philoclea's 
preparations  for  escape  may  not  be  interrupted. 
Then  he  hastens  to  her  chamber,  which  being  open, 
he  overhears  her  sing  two  sonnets  and  speak  a 
soliloquy  lamenting  his  desertion  of  her  and  accus- 
ing him  of  inconstancy.  He  enters,  hears  her  direct 
charge,  gives  his  justification  in  his  plan  for  their 
escape  together,  and  upon  her  still  expressing  dis- 
belief falls  into  a  swoon.  She  repents,  but  is  too 
weak  to  endure  a  journey.  Then  he  realizes  his 
folly  in  not  sooner  acquainting  her  with  his  device, 
her  sudden  knowledge  whereof  has  rendered  impos- 
sible its  execution.  So  he  lies  down  by  her  side, 
and  they  both  fall  asleep. 

( End  of  Book  III.    "  The  Third  Eclogue  "  follows.) 

BOOK  IV 

Dametas  digs  all  day,  until,  when  he  at  last  turns 
over  the  great  stone,  he  finds  naught  there  but  a 
mocking  couplet.  Returning  in  disgust  and  weari- 
ness (404-409),  he  finds  his  house  deserted,  and  so 
fares  forth  again  at  his  wits'  end.  There  he  beholds 
Mopsa  in  her  ash  tree,  and  calls  her,  first  joyfully, 
then  impatiently,  then  with  curses;  who  at  the  third 
call  throws  out  her  arms  to  Apollo,  loses  her  hold, 
and  comes  tumbling  down.  To  all  his  questions 
about  Pamela's  escape  she  keeps  repeating  her  wish 
to  Apollo  that  a  King  may  be  her  husband;  till 
Dametas  thinks  her  mad,  and  lays  hands  upon  her 
to  shake  her  back  to  her  wits.  At  this  moment 
arrives  Miso,  after  a  vain  search  for  Dametas  in 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Mantinea — where  no  such  girl  as  Charita  and  no 
such  street  as  Oudemia  are  known!  Finding  him 
with  a  young  woman  in  his  arms,  she  soundly 
cudgels  them  both.  Still  thinking  and  talking  at 
cross  purposes,  the  three  return  to  their  lodge,  and 
now  begin  to  realize  the  prospect  of  serious  punish- 
ment for  Pamela's  escape.  At  last  Dametas,  think- 
ing that  Pamela  may  have  gone  to  spend  the  night 
with  her  sister,  betakes  himself  to  the  King's  lodge, 
and,  though  to  his  astonishment  he  finds  the  gate 
barred,  yet  lets  himself  in  at  a  cellar-door  which 
has  escaped  the  notice  of  Pyrocles.  In  Philoclea's 
chamber  he  finds  the  sleeping  lovers,  takes  from 
the  room  all  weapons,  and  fast  bars  the  door.  Then 
he  bruits  abroad  what  he  has  seen ;  until  a  shepherd 
comes  running  to  him  crying  "The  King  is  dead." 
In  fact  (409-416),  as  morning  approaches,  Ba- 
silius  has  left  his  wife's  side  to  go  to  his  wife's 
side.  While  he  stands  in  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  she 
rises  and  discloses  herself  to  him,  and  overwhelms 
him  with  shame  and  repentance,  but  is  very  willing 
to  forgive  his  offense.  This  magnanimity  delights 
him,  and  the  two  are  perfectly  reconciled,  when 
Basilius  espies  the  potion,  and  despite  Gynecia's 
remonstrances,  drinks  it  off.  He  falls  apparently 
dead.  Gynecia  feels  herself  morally  guilty  of  his 
death,  and  recalls  her  dream  (II.  xxv,  2I2V.-2I3) 
which  she  interprets  to  mean  that  she  too  must  die. 
She  therefore  tries  to  give  herself  up  a  prisoner 
to  the  shepherds  who  soon  arrive.  For  all  her  con- 
fessions of  guilt  they  are  scarcely  prevailed  upon 
to  take  her  into  custody.  Their  lamentations  reach 
the  ear  of  Philanax,  who,  more  resolute,  places 
Gynecia  under  strong  guard.  Dametas  and  Miso 
too  he  causes  to  be  imprisoned  and  flogged  for  their 
negligence.  He  sends  out  a  search  for  Pamela,  and 
then  proceeds  to  the  King's  lodge. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  273 

Pyrocles  wakes  immediately  after  Dametas  leaves 
the  place,  and  finds  himself  disarmed  and  both  him- 
self and  Philoclea  prisoners  (417-426).  After  a 
survey  of  the  chamber,  he  is  able  to  break  out  only 
a  bar  from  the  window,  sufficient  for  a  weapon 
but  not  for  escape.  He  hears  too  the  loud  voice  of 
Dametas  without,  proclaiming  the  disgrace  of  Philo- 
clea, and  realizes  that,  according  to  the  Arcadian 
law,  he  has  brought  death  upon  her.  The  only 
alternative  he  can  think  of  is  to  kill  himself,  that 
she  may  seem  to  have  killed  him  in  defence  of  her 
honor.  He  does  indeed  fall  upon  the  iron  window 
bar,  which,  however,  is  too  blunt  to  do  more  than 
pierce  his  skin  and  bruise  his  ribs.  The  noise  of 
his  fall  wakes  Philoclea,  who  runs  to  him  in  horror, 
and  implores  him  to  give  up  his  fell  intent.  He 
tells  her  why  he  has  chosen  this  course,  and  the  two 
discuss  suicide.  At  last,  upon  her  threat  that  if  he 
kill  himself  she  will  kill  herself  too,  he  consents  to 
live,  announcing,  however,  that  he  expects  her  to 
support  his  assertion  that  he  came  thither  to  violate 
her  chastity  but  failed,  and  to  withhold  his  real 
name,  for  the  honor  of  his  house.  Both  are  now 
taken  into  custody  by  Philanax. 

The  boors  who  (III.  365)  waked  Pamela  are 
those  remnants  of  the  Arcadian  rebels  who  did  not 
submit  but  retired  to  hide  in  the  forest.  They  now 
recognize  Musidorus  as  having  made  such  havoc 
among  them  during  their  revolt,  and  (427-433) 
Pamela  as  a  valuable  means  whereby  to  purchase 
their  peace  with  the  King.  Accordingly  they  cap- 
ture the  lovers,  whom  they  decide  to  return  to 
Basilius.  Next  day,  Musidorus  has  almost  suc- 
ceeded in  persuading  their  captors  to  go  along  with 
them  to  Thessalia  and  gain  great  reward,  when  the 
whole  party  meet  a  troop  of  Philanax's  horsemen, 

19 


374  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

and  the  boors'  present  fears  overcome  their  cupid- 
ity; so  that  they  go  forward.  But  it  is  to  their 
death.  For  the  horsemen,  learning  who  they  are, 
and  desiring  for  themselves  the  credit  of  bringing 
in  Musidorus  and  Pamela,  kill  the  rebels  every  one. 
The  prisoners  they  deliver  to  Philanax  just  as  Pyro- 
cles  is  being  taken  into  custody.  Pyrocles  breaks 
from  his  guards  and  embraces  Musidorus.  Phila- 
nax, in  order  to  sift  the  matter,  has  them  confined 
together  under  surveillance.  Pamela  claims  to  be 
her  father's  heir,  even  under  the  Arcadian  law  that 
a  female  heir  must  be  either  twenty-one  or  mar- 
ried; for,  she  says,  she  is  married.  But  Philanax 
confines  her  in  the  lodge  with  Philoclea. 

Now  arises  great  dissension  (434-438)  as  to  the 
polity  and  the  ruler  to  be  chosen  for  Arcadia;  amid 
all  of  which  Philanax  moves  quietly  onward  to  his 
purpose  of  bringing  the  King's  murderers  to  jus- 
tice. Timautus,  an  ambitious  nobleman,  whose  pro- 
posal that  Philanax  shall  marry  one  of  the  Prin- 
cesses and  he  himself  the  other  has  been  scornfully 
rejected  by  Philanax,  attacks  him  openly  in  a  speech 
to  an  assemblage  of  the  nobles.  While  Philanax 
is  answering,  news  comes  of  a  fresh  insurrection. 
Kalander,  seeing  the  Princes  imprisoned,  has  been 
by  his  old  love  and  admiration  for  them  fired  with 
desire  not  only  to  set  them  free,  but  to  commit 
Arcadia  to  their  rule.  He  has  persuaded  the  citi- 
zens of  Mantinea  to  support  his  enterprise.  Phi- 
lanax considers  the  uprising  so  dangerous  as  to 
warrant  him  in  secretly  removing  the  Princes,  even 
in  having  them  killed  at  once.  But  their  custodian, 
Simpathus,  will  not  consent  to  either  course.  Thus 
the  day  ends  in  tumult.  The  shepherds  begin  their 
Eclogues  at  sunset. 

(End  of  Book  IV.  "The  fourth  Eclogue"  follows.) 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  275 

BOOK  V 

In  the  midst  of  these  troubles  (444-453),  Evar- 
chus,  King  of  Macedon,  father  of  Pyrocles  and 
uncle  of  Musidorus,  arrives  with  a  troop  of  twenty 
horsemen,  purposing  to  visit  his  old  friend  Basil- 
ius.  But  hearing  of  the  King's  death,  he  sends 
to  Philanax,  offering  to  remain  and  take  part  in 
the  funeral.  In  the  arrival  of  this  King,  renowned 
for  his  justice  even  more  than  for  his  victories, 
Philanax  sees  the  salvation  of  Arcadia.  To  him  he 
will  commit  jurisdiction.  Evarchus  is  to  sit  in 
judgment  the  very  next  day.  To  this  the  assem- 
blage agrees,  only  Timautus  opposing,  whom  the 
mob  thereupon  attacks  with  sticks  and  stones,  so 
that  with  the  loss  of  an  eye  he  is  forced  to  seek  the 
protection  of  Philanax.  Evarchus  consents  to  take 
jurisdiction  of  the  cause  in  hand;  and  with  Philanax 
rides  to  the  lodges,  where  the  people,  who  are  still 
assembled  though  it  is  late  at  night,  receive  him 
with  acclaim.  After  addressing  them  and  setting 
the  trial  for  the  morrow,  he  bids  them  retire. 

That  night  (453-458)  Gynecia  spends  in  painful 
thoughts  and  dreams ;  the  Princesses  in  mutual  con- 
fidences and  in  writing  letters  to  their  prosecutors; 
the  Princes  in  protestations  of  friendship,  in  depre- 
cation of  each  other's  sorrow,  in  declaration  that 
their  loves  were  worth  all  this  grief  and  more,  in 
high  thoughts  of  the  life  to  come,  and  in  a  brave 
sonnet  against  the  fear  of  death.  Kalander  has 
brought  them  their  princely  garments,  which  they 
don.  Just  before  dawn  they  fall  asleep,  and  sleep 
until  their  summons  comes. 

The  trial  begins  (458-463).  Evarchus  clad  in 
black  sits  upon  Basilius's  throne,  which  has  been 
placed  in  the  midst  of  the  green;  the  people  about 
it,  all  silent  and  orderly;  the  King's  body  on  a  bier 


376  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

before  it;  and  Philanax  as  prosecutor.  The  Prin- 
cesses, it  is  decided,  need  not  be  sent  for.  Gynecia 
is  led  forth  first,  ill-apparelled  and  dejected;  then 
come  the  two  Princes,  most  splendidly  arrayed,  and 
with  erected  countenances.  As  Musidorus  passes 
among  the  Arcadians,  he  harangues  them  in  favor 
of  Pamela,  for  he  does  not  know  that  she  is  not  to 
be  tried;  and  as  soon  as  Pyrocles  stands  before  the 
judge  he  pleads  for  Philoclea,  again  taking  upon 
himself  whatever  blame  may  be  supposed  to  rest 
upon  her,  and  begging  to  know  what  is  to  be  her 
fate.  Evarchus  at  once  decides  that  she  is  to  be  a 
life-long  prisoner  "among  certaine  women  of  re- 
ligion like  the  Vestall  Nunnes";  whereat  Pyrocles 
rejoices,  both  that  her  life  is  safe,  and  that  none 
else  shall  ever  enjoy  her.  When  Philanax  is  open- 
ing his  case  against  the  Queen,  she  stops  him  and 
repeats  her  confession.  Thereupon  Evarchus  con- 
demns her  to  be  buried  alive  with  Basilius. 

Next  (464-472)  the  Princes  are  arraigned,  and 
their  denial  of  the  Arcadian  jurisdiction  is  over- 
ruled. Philanax  then  inveighs  against  Pyrocles; 
and  Pyrocles  answers,  telling  the  truth,  except  that 
he  shields  Gynecia  by  declaring  that  he  told  her  of 
her  husband's  assignation  with  Zelmane,  and  sent 
her  to  the  cave  to  take  Zelmane's  place.  That  ex- 
plains, too,  the  Queen's  wearing  Zelmane's  garment. 
He  demands  a  trial  by  combat  with  Philanax,  who 
is  willing;  but  Evarchus  refuses  to  grant  it. 

The  court  proceeds  to  try  Musidorus  (472-475). 
Philanax  inveighs  against  him.  Musidorus  replies, 
reminding  the  court  of  the  service  he  and  Pyrocles 
have  rendered  against  the  insurgents,  and  suggest- 
ing finally  that  the  way  out  of  the  difficulty  is  to 
marry  the  Princesses  to  the  Princes. 

Evarchus  now  gives  judgment  (475-477).     Both 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  »77 

the  question  of  jurisdiction  and  the  questions  of 
fact  he  decides  against  the  Princes.  Finally  he 
sentences  Pyrocles  to  be  thrown  from  a  tower,  and 
Musidorus  to  be  beheaded. 

As  the  Princes  are  being  led  away  (477-478), 
Kalander  comes  rushing  up,  bringing  with  him 
Calodoulus  the  Thessalian,  that  friend  of  Musi- 
dorus to  whom  Musidorus  sent  Menalcas  to  be  de- 
tained (I.  xviii,  79~79v.).  Calodoulus  has  thus 
been  informed  of  the  Princes'  whereabouts  (the 
only  person  so  informed  except  Pamela  and  Philo- 
clea)  ;  and  auguring  ill  of  the  undertaking,  espe- 
cially when  Menalcas  told  him  of  Musidorus's 
disguise,  has  written  to  Evarchus  and  has  himself 
come  from  Thessaly  to  Arcadia  to  do  what  he 
can.  From  Kalander  he  has  just  learned  of  the 
trial,  and  has  identified  the  shepherd  Dorus  as  his 
own  Prince.  Now  he  tells  Evarchus  who  the  pris- 
oners are. 

Philanax  is  mollified  (479-481)  ;  not  so  Evarchus, 
who  confirms  the  sentence.  Thereupon  Musidorus 
defies  his  uncle  as  far  as  he  himself  is  concerned, 
but  pleads  for  the  life  of  Pyrocles.  Pyrocles  gently 
stops  Musidorus's  harsh  words  to  Evarchus,  and 
gently  begs  Evarchus  to  spare  the  life  of  Musidorus. 
Thus  the  two  continue  to  vie  with  each  other  in  gen- 
erosity ;  till  Evarchus  agains  commands  that  they  be 
led  away. 

But  now  (481-482)  those  near  the  bier  of  Basilius 
hear  him  groan,  and  perceive  his  body  stir.  He  is 
alive :  the  supposed  love-potion  was  only  a  sleeping- 
draught.  Timed  for  thirty  hours,  it  has  kept  the 
weak  frame  of  Basilius  rather  longer  under  its 
influence ;  but  he  is  quite  revived. 

He  now  sees  that  the  oracle  is  fulfilled  indeed. 
He  sends  for  Gynecia,  asks  her  pardon,  clears  her 
of  all  charges  against  her,  and  with  great  honor 


278  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

restores  her  to  the  throne.  Pyrocles  is  married  to 
Philoclea,  Musidorus  to  Pamela.  Philanax,  Calo- 
doulus,  Kalander,  Clitophon,  and  Sympathus,  are 
all  fully  rewarded. — The  stories  of  Artaxia  and 
Plexirtus;  of  Erona  and  Plangus;  of  Helen  and 
Amphialus;  of  Menalcas  and  the  daughter  of  Calo- 
doulus;  of  Strephan  and  Klaius;  of  the  son  of 
Pyrocles  and  Philoclea,  named  Pyrophilus,  and  of 
the  daughter  of  Musidorus  and  Pamela,  named  Mel- 
idora — these  some  other  pen  may  write:  mine  is 
weary. 

HISTORY  OF  PYROCLES  AND  MUSIDORUS  BEFORE  THEY 
ENTER  THE  MAIN  PLOT 

(a)  (II.  vi,  126-129).  Evarchus,  King  of  Mace- 
don,  gave  his  only  sister  in  marriage  to  his  friend 
Dorilaus  King  of  Thessalia.  Their  son  was  Musi- 
dorus. The  soothsayers  at  his  birth  predicting  that 
he  should  overcome  certain  Kingdoms,  the  Kings  of 
Phrygia,  Lydia  and  Crete  combined  to  destroy  him, 
and  to  that  end  invaded  Thessalia,  but  were  re- 
pulsed by  the  aid  of  Evarchus.  Evarchus  now  mar- 
ried the  sister  of  Dorilaus,  and  by  her  had  a  son 
Pyrocles,  for  whom  also  there  were  wonderful 
prognostications. 

Pyrocles  was  sent  (II.  vii,  I29v.-i33v.)  to  be 
reared  with  his  cousin  Musidorus.  When  Evarchus 
was  besieging  Byzantium,  he  sent  for  the  two 
cousins,  now  grown  friends  as  well,  who  prepared 
a  fleet  and  set  sail.  A  storm  scattered  the  fleet  and 
drove  their  ship  upon  a  rock. 

(II.  viii,  I34~i38v.)  Pyrocles  was  cast  ashore 
upon  the  coast  of  Phrygia,  and  was  quickly  taken 
to  the  King,  a  cruel,  suspicious  tyrant;  who  learn- 
ing how  his  captive  came  thither  and  suspecting 
that  the  fleet  had  been  gathered  against  himself, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  279 

made  preparations  to  take  his  life.  Musidorus, 
rescued  by  a  fisherman  of  Pontus,  heard  of  his 
friend's  peril,  and  through  a  nobleman  of  that  coun- 
try offered  himself  in  the  stead  of  Pyrocles  to  be 
executed.  The  King,  very  glad  to  kill  his  chief 
enemy,  accepted  the  offer  and  set  Pyrocles  free. 
In  disguise,  Pyrocles  procured  his  acceptance  as  the 
executioner's  assistant,  and  upon  the  scaffold  ap- 
peared not  only  armed  himself,  but  bearing  the 
executioner's  sword  as  well.  This  he  put  into  Musi- 
dorus's  hand,  saying  "  Die  nobly."  The  two  quickly 
cleared  the  scaffold,  but  would  soon  have  been  over- 
powered, if  a  quarrel  between  two  soldiers  had  not 
just  then  issued  in  a  general  riot  of  the  troops. 
Hereupon  the  King  fled  from  his  post  of  observa- 
tion; a  rumor  of  his  death  went  about;  and  some  of 
the  younger  nobles  cried  "  Liberty,"  routed  the  citi- 
zens, overpowered  the  guard,  and  took  possession 
of  the  city.  The  insurgents  made  Musidorus  their 
chief  and  crowned  him  on  the  scaffold! 

But  (II.  ix,  139-x,  142)  the  Princes  left  Phrygia 
to  seek  fresh  adventures.  In  Galatia  (II.  x,  I42v.- 
147)  they  succored  the  King  (unnamed)  and  his 
true-born  pious  son  Leonatus,  against  his  wicked 
bastard  son  Plexirtus.  (See  4,  a  and  &.) 

In  Lycia  (II.  x,  147-xiii,  i62v.)  they  came  to  the 
assistance  of  Queen  Erona,  whom  (Tiridates)  the 
King  of  Armenia,  aided  by  Plangus,  Barzanes,  and 
Evardes,  was  besieging.  (See  50.) 

(6)  Evardes  having  been  slain  by  Pyrocles  (II. 
xviii,  181-185),  Anaxius,  the  eldest  and  proudest  of 
Evardes's  three  nephews,  sought  to  avenge  his  death. 
He  challenged  Pyrocles  to  single  combat;  who  ac- 
cepting departed  from  Queen  Erona  and  from  Mu- 
sidorus too,  that  he  might  try  the  adventure  alone. 
But  Musidorus  followed,  to  be  at  hand  in  time  of 
need.  On  the  way,  Pyrocles  witnessed  the  adven- 
ture of  Pamphilus  (7a). 


280  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

After  making  peace,  as  he  supposed,  between  Pam- 
philus  and  Dido,  Pyrocles  (II.  xix,  iSsv.-ipo)  rode 
on  to  his  meeting  with  Anaxius,  who  attacked  him 
at  once.  The  combatants  broke  their  lances  at  the 
first  encounter,  then  for  a  while  fought  with  swords, 
until  Anaxius's  horse  was  impaled  upon  a  broken 
lance.  At  that  both  champions  dismounting  con- 
tinued to  fight  on  foot,  when,  Dido  passing  by  as 
Pamphilus's  captive,  Pyrocles  rode  off  to  her  rescue, 
despite  the  taunts  and  jeers  of  Anaxius  and  the 
country  folk  a1,  out.  This  rescue  accomplished,  he 
lodged  that  night  at  the  house  of  Dido's  father, 
Chremes,  whose  treachery  next  day  (/&)  resulted 
in  Pyrocles  being  rejoined  by  Musidorus. 

The  King  of  Iberia,  coming  thither  by  chance, 
stopped  the  fray  and  invited  the  Princes  to  his  court 
(II.  xx,  191-194),  where  they  were  presented  to  his 
Queen,  Andromana.  (See  6b.)  Andromana  fell  in 
love  with  them  both,  and  scrupled  not  to  show  her 
passion  to  both,  soliciting  them  openly.  But  being 
continually  repulsed,  she  thought  to  force  them,  and 
so  upon  a  false  charge  that  they  were  plotting  to 
overthrow  the  Kingdom  (as  they  had  done  in  Pontus 
and  Phrygia)  she  had  them  imprisoned,  but  con- 
tinued to  implore  their  love.  It  happened  that  Pal- 
ladius,  son  of  the  King  and  Queen,  loved  his  cousin 
Zelmane  (daughter  to  his  mother's  half-brother, 
Plexirtus,  who  had  left  her  at  the  Iberian  court  to 
avoid  the  insecurity  of  his  own  estate).  But  she 
loved  Pyrocles,  and  begged  Palladius  to  have  the 
Princes  set  free.  Palladius  pleaded  with  his  mother 
in  vain.  But  another  opportunity  favored  them. 

In  Iberia,  jousts  (II.  xxi,  I94v.-I98v.)  are  held 
each  year  at  the  anniversary  of  the  royal  wedding 
day.  On  this  occasion  the  Knights  of  Queen  Helen 
of  Corinth  bade  fair  to  carry  off  the  honors;  and 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  28 1 

at  length  Palladius  persuaded  his  mother  to  let  Py- 
rocles  and  Musidorus  take  part  in  the  tournament 
for  the  honor  of  Iberia.  They  were  sworn  to  go  no 
further  than  Palladius  went,  and  to  attend  him 
wherever  he  did  go.  When,  therefore,  he  rode  away 
from  the  lists,  they  went  with  him  unresisted,  and 
made  good  their  escape  into  Bithynia.  But  now 
Andromana  sent  a  troop  in  pursuit,  and  herself 
came  with  it.  The  Princes  and  Palladius  easily  put 
it  to  flight ;  and  Palladius  rashly  pursued.  One  of 
his  own  subjects — one  who  had  been  a  favorite  of 
Andromana  and  was  jealous  of  the  Princes — mis- 
took Palladius  for  one  of  them,  and  slew  him.  An- 
dromana stabbed  herself  on  her  son's  body  and  died. 

Parting  thence  (II.  xxii,  I99-2O3V.),  the  Princes 
learned  from  the  lament  of  Leucippe  the  end  of  the 
story  of  Pamphilus.  (See  /c.)  Further  on  they 
were  overtaken  by  Zelmane,  disguised  as  a  page 
under  the  name  Daiphantus,  who  for  love  of  Pyro- 
cles  had  followed  him  thus,  and  now  offered  him 
her  services.  Not  recognizing  her,  he  accepted,  and 
she  served  him  devotedly  for  two  months.  On  the 
border  of  Galatia  they  witnessed  the  fatal  combat, 
incited  by  the  wiles  of  Plexirtus,  between  his  faith- 
ful friends,  the  brothers  Tydeus  and  Telenor  (see 
40}  ;  and  they  got  the  story  from  the  leader  of  the 
band  which  was  to  have  killed  whichever  brother 
should  survive. 

The  news  of  her  father's  treachery  so  smote  Zel- 
mane (II.  xxiii,  204-208),  that,  languishing  as  she 
was  for  love,  she  now  pined  away.  Her  fatal  stroke 
was  the  further  news  that  her  father  was  in  danger 
of  losing  his  life,  unless  he  were  rescued  at  once. 
Hereupon  she  disclosed  her  identity,  confessed  her 
hopeless  love,  and  begged  a  last  boon  of  the  Princes: 
Pyrocles  was  to  rescue  her  father,  and  upon  his 


282  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

return  to  Greece  was  to  take  the  name  Daiphantus, 
in  her  memory;  Musidorus  at  the  same  time  was  to 
take  the  name  Palladius,  in  memory  of  her  hapless 
lover;  and  they  were  to  bury  her  obscurely,  not  suf- 
fering her  friends  to  know  her  fate.  Then  she  died. 

Pyrocles  rode  off,  much  against  his  will,  to  rescue 
Plexirtus,  leaving  Musidorus  to  help  the  King  of 
Pontus  against  Otaves,  brother  to  that  Barzanes 
whom  Musidorus  slew  in  defence  of  Erona  (xiii, 
161). 

Both  these  adventures  the  Princes  accomplished 
successfully.  Pyrocles  set  Plexirtus  free  by  killing 
the  monster  that  was  to  have  devoured  him.  Musi- 
dorus slew  Otaves's  giant  allies  and  took  Otaves 
prisoner,  but  spared  him  and  made  him  a  friend. 

Then  the  Princes  hastened  to  take  ship  (II.  xxiv, 
2o8v.-2iiv.)  for  Greece.  They  wished  to  return 
to  their  parents ;  to  resume  the  interrupted  combat 
with  Anaxius  (II.  xix,  i86v.),  who  sought  Pyrocles 
throughout  Peloponnesus,  defaming  him  as  he  went; 
and  to  visit  Arcadia,  famous  for  the  valor  of  Arga- 
lus  and  Amphialus  and  for  the  beauty  of  its  prin- 
cesses. Their  ship  was  royally  furnished  by  Plex- 
irtus, who  made  such  professions  of  repentance  and 
goodwill  that  they  actually  began  to  trust  him,  and 
set  sail.  But  when  they  began  to  look  for  land,  an 
old  man  whom  Plexirtus  had  sent  with  them  as 
guide  disclosed  to  them  that  he  and  the  Captain  had 
been  commissioned  by  Plexirtus  to  murder  them  in 
their  sleep:  thus  Plexirtus  hoped  to  gain  the  hand 
of  Artaxia  and  her  Kingdom  of  Armenia,  which  she 
had  promised  to  whosoever  should  kill  the  Princes. 
When  the  ship  neared  Greece,  they  saw  the  Captain 
whisper  the  old  man  that  the  time  was  come,  and 
the  old  man  try  to  dissuade  him.  Thereupon  the 
Captain  commanded  his  crew  to  take  the  Princes 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  283 

alive  or  dead,  and,  the  old  man  commanding  them  the 
contrary,  the  Captain  gave  him  a  blow.  Thus  the 
mellay  began ;  friend  and  foe  indistinguishably  fought 
in  that  narrow  space ;  the  old  man  was  killed  by  one 
of  his  own  side;  some  of  the  crew  joined  to  defend 
the  Princes;  and  a  little  remnant  took  to  a  boat, 
which  others  again  leapt  into  and  swamped.  At  last 
a  fire  broke  out,  stopped  the  fighting,  and  engaged 
the  efforts  of  all  the  survivors.  In  vain.  The  Princes 
leapt  overboard.  Pyrocles  finding  the  Captain  cling- 
ing to  a  floating  mast,  killed  him,  and  bestrode  the 
mast  himself. 

[Here  the  "Arcadia"  opens,  in  mediis  rebus.] 

(c)  On  the  coast  of  Laconia  (I.  i,  1-6),  Pyrocles 
and  Musidorus  escape  from  the  burning  ship.  Musi- 
dorus,  cast  ashore  and  revived  by  the  shepherds,  sails 
out  to  rescue  Pyrocles,  who  is  found  riding  a  mast. 
Just  then  pirates  frighten  off  the  rescuers,  and  take 
Pyrocles.  Musidorus  gives  up  the  rescue  perforce. 

(rf)  Musidorus  is  conducted  by  the  shepherds  to 
Arcadia  (I.  ii,  6-iv,  18),  where  Kalander,  a  gentle- 
man of  that  country,  entertains  him  under  the  name 
Palladius,  and  tells  him  A. 

Kalander  now  hears  (I.  v,  18-24)  that  his  son 
Clitophon,  who  is  about  to  be  married,  has  been 
taken  prisoner  by  the  Helots,  then  in  revolt  against 
the  Laconians.  To  account  for  Clitophon's  partici- 
pation in  that  fight,  Kalander's  steward  tells  Musi- 
dorus in. 

Musidorus  and  Kalander  head  an  expedition  (I. 
vi,  24-28)  to  rescue  Clitophon.  By  M.'s  direction 
the  Arcadians  disguise  themselves  as  rebellious  peas- 
ants, and,  placing  chains  upon  the  gentlemen  of 
their  army,  offer,  to  make  common  cause  with  the 
Helots.  These,  in  the  absence  of  their  leader,  admit 
the  Arcadians  to  Cardamila,  their  city,  where  the 


284  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

gentlemen  are  soon  released  and  lead  an  attack  from 
within  the  walls.  In  this  fight  the  Helots  are  about 
to  be  worsted,  when  their  leader  Daiphantus  (=  Py- 
rocles)  returns,  rallies  them,  and  confronts  Musi- 
dorus,  whose  helmet  he  strikes  off.  Thereupon  he 
recognizes  his  friend  and  declares  himself. 

(e)  Pyrocles  is  kept  in  the  hold  by  the  pirates 
(I.  viii,  34-35V.)  until  they  are  hard  pressed  by  a 
Laconian  galley,  when  they  arm  him  and  other  pris- 
oners, promising  them  liberty  as  a  reward  for  a  good 
defense.  In  the  fight  Pyrocles  kills  the  commander 
of  the  galley,  but  is  himself  taken,  and  lodged  in 
prison  at  Tenaria.  The  revolting  Helots  make  a 
jail-delivery  and  release  him.  His  valor  in  several 
minor  combats  leads  them  to  choose  him,  under  the 
name  Daiphantus,  to  their  leadership,  just  left  va- 
cant by  the  slaying  of  Demagoras.  (See  Jo.)  Here 
he  gains  so  many  victories  that  he  is  able  to  nego- 
tiate a  very  advantageous  peace  with  the  Spartans. 
These  negotiations  are  what  cause  his  absence  at  the 
time  of  the  Arcadian  attack  upon  Cardamila.  But 
at  the  critical  moment  he  returns,  rallies  the  Helots, 
and  fights  with  Musidorus  until  he  strikes  off  his 
friend's  helmet  and  recognizes  him  (d  ad  fin.).  The 
fight  is  stopped  (I.  vi,  26-28).  Pyrocles  persuades 
the  Helots  to  give  up  Clitophon  and  Argalus,  who 
return  with  the  Princes  and  Kalander  to  the  latter's 
house.  There  they  all  witness  ib. 

(/)  Musidorus  and  Pyrocles  now  (I.  viii,  33-35) 
tell  each  other  d  and  e  respectively,  thus  bring- 
ing their  adventures  up  to  the  moment  of  the  narra- 
tion itself;  and  Musidorus  repeats  A  for  the  benefit 
of  Pyrocles,  at  the  same  time  showing  him  the  pic- 
ture of  Philoclea  on  the  wall  of  a  pavilion  in  Ka- 
lander's  garden.  Kalander  at  Pyrocles's  request  also 
gives  him  information  about  A.  With  this  and  with 


ELIZABETHAN  PROSE   FICTION  285 

the  picture,  Pyrocles  falls  in  love  (I.  ix,  35V.-38;  I. 
xiii,  57)  ;  partly  confesses  his  passion  to  Musidorus, 
and  takes  occasion  of  a  hunt  (I.  x,  40)  to  slip  away 
secretly  to  the  Arcadian  court.  [He  thus  enters  the 
Main  Plot,  at  B.] 

A  letter  which  he  leaves  for  Musidorus  (I.  x, 
4ov.-4iv.)  tells  only  that  he  goes  because  of  love, 
but  tells  not  whither.  Musidorus  and  Clitophon  de- 
part to  seek  him. 

In  the  valley  they  find  the  scattered  pieces  of  a 
suit  of  armor  (I.  x,  42-43V.),  which  Clitophon  rec- 
ognizes as  that  of  his  cousin  Amphialus.  Musidorus 
puts  it  on.  Soon  they  are  attacked  by  the  armed 
escort  of  a  coach,  and  valiantly  defending  them- 
selves, kill  or  rout  their  assailants.  They  find  in 
the  coach  a  beautiful  lady  (Queen  Helen  of  Corinth) 
gazing  intently  upon  a  picture  (that  of  Amphialus). 
Addressing  Musidorus  by  the  name  of  Amphialus, 
she  begs  him  to  end  her  woes.  He  discloses  him- 
self and  asks  her  to  tell  her  story.  She  relates  20 
(I.  xi,  44-48). 

Scarcely  has  she  concluded,  when  Ismenus,  Am- 
phialus's  page,  dressed  in  Musidorus's  armor,  attacks 
Musidorus  (I.  xi,48v.~49v.)  for  wearing  Amphialus's 
armor.  Clitophon  recognizing  Ismenus,  explains 
matters  and  ends  the  attack.  Ismenus  promises  to 
return  his  master's  armor  as  soon  as  he  dare  venture 
to  approach  him.  He  relates  2b.  Queen  Helen  pro- 
ceeds on  her  journey,  attended  by  Clitophon.  Musi- 
dorus continues  his  quest. 

After  traversing  Laconia,  Sicyonia,  Corinth,  Elis 
and  Achaia  (I.  xii,  5o~56v.)  he  returns  to  Arcadia, 
for  he  remembers  that  Philoclea's  picture  recalled 
to  Pyrocles  his  old  love  (Zelmane).  And  there  he 
finds  him  disguised  as  an  Amazon.  His  remonstrance 
against  such  an  ignoble  course,  and  more  generally 


286  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

against  women  and  love,  almost  brings  on  a  quarrel ; 
but  soon  the  cousins  resume  their  friendship,  and 
Pyrocles  (I.  xiii,  57~xiv,  64v.)  gives  an  account  of 
his  love  affair  up  to  the  time  of  the  actual  narration : 
B.  He  begs  Musidorus  to  remain  concealed  in  an 
arbor  private  to  Pyrocles,  in  order  that  Pyrocles  may 
receive  his  counsel  and  help,  and  show  him  Philo- 
clea.  As  Pamela  is  with  Philoclea,  Musidorus  sees 
her  too,  and  falls  in  love  with  her.  [Thus  he  too 
enters  the  Main  Plot,  at  C.] 

EPISODES 
j.  Argalus  and  Parthenia 

(a)  (I.  v,  19-24)  Argalus,  a  knight  of  Cyprus  and 
cousin  to  Queen  Gynecia,  accompanies  her  to  the 
Arcadian  court,  where  he  becomes  the  friend  of 
Clitophon  and  is  by  him  presented  to  Parthenia, 
Clitophon's  cousin.  Argalus  and  Parthenia  fall  in 
love,  but  Parthenia's  mother  favors  a  wealthy  suitor, 
Demagoras,  and  does  all  she  can  to  thwart  Argalus. 
After  her  death,  Demagoras,  realizing  that  his  suit 
must  fail,  rubs  poison  on  Parthenia's  face,  and  spoils 
her  beauty.  Though  Argalus  remains  faithful,  she 
will  not  consent  to  his  sacrificing  himself,  and,  de- 
clining to  marry  him,  secretly  escapes.  Banished 
for  his  crime,  Demagoras  becomes  leader  of  the 
rebellious  Helots.  In  their  chief  city  Argalus  seeks 
him  out,  slays  him,  and  is  captured.  Clitophon  leads 
an  expedition  to  rescue  his  friend,  but  is  taken  him- 
self. The  two  are  kept  safe  from  the  vengeance  of 
the  Helots  by  the  influence  of  the  latter's  new  leader 
(Daiphantus  =  Pyrocles). 

(&)  (I.  vii,  31-33)  Argalus  is  released  as  a  result 
of  Kalander's  expedition,  and  is  taken  to  Kalander's 
house.  There  appears  a  lady  closely  resembling 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  387 

Parthenia.  She  declares  that  she  is  a  kinswoman  of 
Queen  Helen  of  Corinth,  and  that  she  bears  Par- 
thenia's  dying  wish  that  Argalus  and  she  shall  wed. 
Upon  his  refusal,  she  reveals  herself  as  Parthenia 
indeed,  cured  by  a  skillful  physician  of  Queen  Helen. 
Argalus  and  Parthenia  are  married  (I.  viii,  35)  at 
Kalander's  house,  amid  the  rejoicing  of  the  noble 
guests. 

(c)  (III.  xii,  290-295)  Amphialus,  having  taken 
the  princesses  captive  and  being  besieged  by  Basil- 
ius,  defeats  many  of  Basilius's  knights.     At  length 
Basilius  sends  for  Argalus,  who  at  once  leaves  his 
nuptial  bliss  at  the  call  of  honor.    After  a  terrible 
combat    he    receives   a    mortal    wound.      Parthenia 
comes  too  late  to  do  aught  but  receive  his  last  words. 
He  is  buried  with  military  pomp;  she,  inconsolable, 
vows  to  follow  him. 

(d)  (III.  xvi,  3oSv.-3iiv.)    Disguised  as  "The 
Knight  of  the  Tomb "   she  challenges  Amphialus, 
who  after  a  short  and  one-sided  combat  wounds  her 
mortally.    She  dies  calling  the  name  of  Argalus,  and 
is  buried  in  his  tomb  with  great  pomp  and  lamen- 
tation. 

(Their  epitaph,  not  given  in  the  ed.  of  1590,  is 
given  at  p.  288  of  the  ed.  of  1627.) 

2.  Amphialus  and  Queen  Helen 

(a)  (I.  xi,  45-48)  Amphialus,  son  of  Basilius's 
younger  brother  (unnamed),  and  of  the  unworthy 
Cecropia,  Princess  of  Argos,  was  reared  by  Timo- 
theus,  a  great  Corinthian  lord,  with  whose  son 
Philoxenus  he  formed  a  close  friendship.  When 
Philoxenus  courted  Queen  Helen  of  Corinth,  he  in- 
troduced his  friend  to  her  to  further  his  suit.  Though 
Amphialus  was  faithful  to  his  trust,  the  Queen  fell 
in  love  with  him,  and  told  him  so.  Indignant,  he 


388  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

left  her  court.  Philoxenus  coming  to  woo  in  per- 
son heard  from  her  of  her  preference  for  Amphialus. 
He  overtook  him,  and  forcing  a  fight  upon  him  was 
slain.  Timotheus,  who  presently  arrived,  fell  dead 
upon  his  son's  body.  Overcome  with  grief,  Am- 
phialus threw  away  his  armor,  retired  to  the  forest, 
and  declared  undying  hatred  against  Queen  Helen, 
cause  of  all  this  woe.  She  now  seeks  him  that  she 
may  die  at  his  hands. 

(6)  (II.  xi,  I53V.-I55)  In  his  solitary  wanderings 
he  chances  upon  the  spot  where  Pamela  and  Philo- 
clea  are  bathing  in  the  river  Ladon ;  he  falls  in  love 
with  Philoclea;  his  spaniel  betrays  his  presence; 
Pyrocles  wounds  him;  and  Amphialus  retires  to 
nurse  his  wounds. 

(c)  (III.  xxiv,  342v.-xxv,  346)  In  consequence  of 
Cecropia's  wicked  attempt  to  force  Philoclea  to  marry 
Amphialus,  Amphialus  has  been  sorely  wounded  by 
Musidorus,  and,  now  attempting  suicide,  re-opens 
these  wounds  and  stabs  himself  besides.  Queen 
Helen  takes  his  almost  lifeless  body  to  be  cured  by 
a  surgeon  of  hers  at  home. 

[Episode  left  unfinished.] 

j.  Phalantus  and  Artesia 

(a)  (I.  xv,  66-xvii,  76)  Phalantus,  a  bastard 
brother  of  Queen  Helen,  is  as  shallow-hearted  as  he 
is  brave  and  courteous.  Returned  from  the  war 
against  the  Helots,  he  fancies  himself  in  love  with 
Artesia.  She  is  really  angling  for  Amphialus,  but 
she,  too,  is  shallow,  is  not  deeply  in  love  with  any- 
one, and  is  content  to  accept  the  lip-worship  of 
Phalantus  for  the  credit  it  brings  her.  Desiring  that 
her  fame  may  reach  Amphialus,  she  entraps  Phalan- 
tus into  a  promise  to  maintain  by  challenge  the 
supremacy  of  her  beauty.  He  has  never  been  over- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  289 

thrown,  but  has  defeated  many  adversaries  and  taken 
from  them  as  prizes  the  portraits  of  their  ladies, 
which,  to  the  number  of  eleven,  he  bears  in  tri- 
umphal procession  at  the  Arcadian  court.  After 
he  has  there  unseated  several  knights,  among  them 
Phebilus,  who  champions  the  beauty  of  Philoclea, 
he  is  himself  at  last  overthrown  by  Pyrocles,  who 
disguised  as  an  ill-appareled  knight,  champions  that 
same  beauty.  Artesia  thereupon  leaves  Phalantus 
in  scorn,  but  he  is  glad  of  his  riddance. 

(&)  Later,  Artesia  acts  as  Cecropia's  tool  to  en- 
trap the  Princesses  of  Arcadia  (III.  ii,  248,  252)  ; 
plots  treachery  against  Cecropia  (III.  xiv,  301-304)  ; 
and  is  executed  at  her  command  (III.  xxi,  332; 
xxiii,  339).  See  8. 

4.  The  Galatica   (Paphlagonica) 

(a)  (II.  x,  i42-i46v.)  Infatuated  by  the  wiles  of 
his  bastard  son  Plexirtus,  the  (unnamed)  King  of 
Galatia  (Paphlagonia)  ordered  his  servants  to  kill 
Leonatus,  the  true-born  heir  to  the  throne;  but  they 
spared  him  and  allowed  him  to  escape  to  a  foreign 
country.  There  he  was  just  gaining  advancement 
when  he  heard  that  Plexirtus  had  deposed  and 
blinded  his  father.  Leonatus  returned  to  succor  the 
old  man,  who  begged  to  be  led  to  the  top  of  a  high 
rock,  that  he  might  throw  himself  from  it  and  die. 

His  plaint  being  overheard  by  the  Princes  Pyro- 
cles and  Musidorus,  engaged  their  interest.  They 
defended  him  and  Leonatus  against  an  armed  troop 
headed  by  Plexirtus  himself,  who  came  to  take  his 
brother's  life.  With  the  aid  of  the  new  King  of 
Pontus  they  forced  Plexirtus  to  retreat  to  a  for- 
tress, where  they  besieged  him.  The  old  King 
crowned  Leonatus  and  died.  Plexirtus  surrendered, 
but  dealt  with  Leonatus  so  cunningly  that  he  was 
pardoned. 


39°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

(&)  (II.  xxii,  20IV.-2O3)  Now  he  plotted  to  poi- 
son Leonatus,  who  in  his  mistaken  piety  refusing 
to  kill  his  father's  son,  assigned  to  him  instead  (that 
Plexirtus's  ambition  might  find  a  field  elsewhere) 
his  own  right  to  the  conquest  of  Trebizonde.  This 
city  Plexirtus's  faithful  allies,  the  brothers  Tydeus 
and  Telenor,  soon  acquired  for  him.  But,  once 
seated  on  the  throne,  he  began  to  fear  them,  and 
plotted  to  put  them  out  of  the  way.  He  told  each 
of  them  separately  and  secretly  that  he  had  been 
challenged  by  the  King  of  Pontus  to  single  com- 
bat,— a  tale  which  was  plausible  by  reason  of  the 
old  grudge  between  the  kings.  (See  II.  x,  145 
supra.)  When  the  appointed  day  drew  near,  he 
feigned  himself  ill  and  again  secretly  and  separately 
requested  each  brother  to  go  in  his  place,  making 
each  swear  to  keep  the  secret  even  from  his  brother. 
And  "  he  told  Tydeus,  the  king  would  meet  him  in 
a  blew  armour;  &  Telenor,  that  it  was  a  black 
armour;  &  with  wicked  subtiltie  (as  if  it  had  bene 
so  appointed)  caused  Tydeus  to  take  a  black  armour, 
&  Telenor  a  blew;  appointing  them  waies  how  to 
go,  so  as  he  knew  they  should  not  meet,  til  they 
came  to  the  place  appointed,  where  each  had  prom- 
ised to  keep  silence  .  .  . ;  and  there  in  await  he  had 
laied  .  .  .  murtherers,  that  who  ouerliued  the  other, 
should  by  them  be  dispatched." 

Pyrocles  and  Musidorus  came  up  towards  the  end 
of  this  combat  and  parted  the  brothers,  but  too  late 
to  prevent  their  death.  From  the  chief  of  the  mur- 
derers, who  had  attacked  the  Princes  when  they 
first  appeared,  the  Princes  learned  this  story. 

A  messenger  sought  Tydeus  and  Telenor  (II. 
xxiii,  204V.-2O7V.)  to  tell  them  of  the  danger  of 
Plexirtus,  who  unless  rescued  at  once  would  suffer 
death.  The  messenger  told  his  tale  to  the  Princes; 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  29! 

and  Pyrocles,  having  pledged  himself  to  the  dying 
Zelmane  to  succor  her  unworthy  father,  unwillingly 
undertook  the  task.  An  ancient  knight,  he  learned, 
whose  kinsman  Plexirtus  had  murdered,  had  now 
for  revenge  entrapped  Plexirtus  in  his  castle  by 
means  of  a  forged  letter  purporting  to  be  from 
Artaxia,  in  which  she  promised  marriage  to  Plex- 
irtus and  begged  him  to  come  to  her  in  secret. 
Plexirtus  on  his  way  with  a  small  escort  had  been 
captured  by  the  old  knight,  who  threatened  to  de- 
liver him  to  a  monster,  but  yet  proclaimed  that  if 
any  so  loved  Plexirtus  as  to  attempt  to  slay  that 
monster,  Plexirtus  should  be  saved  if  they  suc- 
ceeded. Pyrocles  slew  the  monster  and  set  Plex- 
irtus free  to  practise  new  villainies. 

For  instance  (II.  xxiv,  2O9v.),  in  order  to  gain 
Artaxia's  hand,  and  add  Armenia  to  his  kingdom, 
Plexirtus  hired  the  captain  and  the  crew  of  the 
vessel  on  which  the  Princes  were  returning  home, 
to  murder  them  both.  Thus  he  hoped  to  gain  the 
price  that  Artaxia  had  set  upon  the  Princes'  heads. 
His  expectations  were  fulfilled:  he  married  Artaxia 
(II.  xxix,  232V.-233)  and  was  crowned  King  of 
Armenia. 

[Episode  left  unfinished;  Plexirtus  left  unpun- 
ished.] 

5.  Erona,  Antiphilus,  and  Plangus 

(a)  (II.  xiii,  I59v.-i62v.)  Erona,  Princess  of 
Lycia,  contemning  Love,  caused  Cupid's  images  to 
be  defaced.  He  punished  her  by  causing  her  to  fall 
in  love  with  Antiphilus,  her  nurse's  son.  Endeav- 
oring to  dissuade  her  from  this  love,  in  favor  of 
her  suitor  Tiridates,  King  of  Armenia,  her  father 
pretended  that  Antiphilus  had  fled  the  country, 
pretended  to  have  executed  him,  etc.  Thereupon 
she  made  attempts  at  suicide,  which  broke  her 


292  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

father's  heart,  so  that  he  died,  leaving  her  queen. 
She  was  about  to  marry  Antiphilus,  when  Tiridates 
besieged  her.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  sister 
Artaxia,  and  aided  by  Plangus,  Evardes,  and  Bar- 
zanes.  To  the  aid  of  Erona  came  Pyrocles  and 
Musidorus.  Tiridates  offered  to  match  his  three 
champions  against  the  two  princes  and  Antiphilus. 
In  the  ensuing  combat,  Musidorus  slew  Barzanes 
and  Pyrocles  slew  Evardes,  but  Antiphilus  was 
taken  alive  by  Plangus.  Tiridates  gave  Erona  three 
days  in  which  to  yield  to  him :  otherwise  Antiphilus 
should  be  beheaded.  Meanwhile,  if  she  did  herself 
any  hurt,  Antiphilus  should  be  tortured.  Thus 
hemmed  in,  she  know  not  what  to  do.  At  length, 
upon  a  message  from  Antiphilus  beseeching  her  to 
save  his  life,  she  sent  a  message  of  compliance ;  but 
immediately  repented,  and  sought  counsel  of  the 
Princes.  In  ignorance  of  her  previous  message 
they  issued  from  the  city,  found  Tiridates  negli- 
gently guarded,  slew  him,  and  brought  off  Antiphilus, 
who  was  soon  married  to  Erona.  Artaxia,  aided  by 
Plangus  to  escape,  and  now  Queen  of  Armenia,  "pro- 
claimed great  rewards  to  any  priuate  man  and  her 
selfe  in  manage  to  any  Prince,  that  would  destroy 
Pyrocles  and  Musidorus  " ;  for  she  considered  that 
her  brother  had  been  by  them  treacherously  slain. 

(b)  (II.  xxix,  227v.-233v.)  Soon  after  Erona's 
marriage  to  Antiphilus,  his  natural  baseness,  together 
with  the  flattery  of  his  courtiers,  puffed  him  up  with 
pride.  He  began  to  despise  his  wife,  and  feigning 
that  she  was  barren,  purposed  a  second  marriage. 
He  even,  in  his  insolence,  made  polygamy  legiti- 
mate, and  asked  for  the  hand  of  Artaxia,  who  hated 
both  him  and  Erona.  Infatuated  by  her  love,  Erona 
assented  to  all  these  negotiations,  willing  even  to 
be  second  to  Artaxia  if  she  might  only  keep  An- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  293 

tiphilus;  and  she  wrote  to  Artaxia  to  speed  his 
wooing.  Artaxia  hid  her  hatred  in  order  to  get 
them  into  her  power;  and  appointed  an  interview. 
There  she  took  Antiphilus  and  Erona  prisoners, 
meaning  to  sacrifice  them  upon  her  brother's  tomb. 
Antiphilus  weakly  begged  for  mercy;  Erona  pleaded 
only  for  Antiphilus.  Her  noble  bearing,  her  beauty, 
and  her  affliction  now  won  the  love  of  Plangus, 
who  still  in  his  exile  sojourned  at  Artaxia's  court. 
He  declared  his  love,  and  Erona  desired  him  to 
show  it  by  saving  Antiphilus.  So  he  tried  to  per- 
suade Artaxia  to  spare  her  prisoner,  but  in  vain. 
Equally  vain  was  his  attempt  to  gather  a  rescuing 
army  in  Lycia:  there  the  throne  had  already  been 
usurped  by  the  next  heir,  who  had  set  the  Lycians 
against  their  queen  because  of  her  unworthy  match, 
and  who  now  urged  Artaxia  to  execute  her.  Fi- 
nally he  arranged  with  Antiphilus  to  make  possible 
his  escape,  but  Antiphilus  wanted  the  spirit  to  carry 
out  the  plan:  he  had  a  notion  that  if  he  disclosed  it, 
he  should  be  pardoned !  He  did  disclose  it,  and 
begged  for  his  life  again.  When  Plangus  came  at 
the  appointed  time  to  deliver  Antiphilus,  Artaxia's 
troops  were  there  ready  to  take  Plangus,  but  his 
friends  among  the  army  kept  him  safe.  As  for 
Antiphilus,  the  women  of  that  city  begged  him  from 
Artaxia ;  and,  mortally  hating  him  for  having  insti- 
tuted polygamy,  forced  him  to  throw  himself  down 
from  the  pyramid  on  Tiridates's  tomb  and  so  to 
end  his  false-hearted  life.  Plangus  gathered  his 
friends,  and  in  an  encounter  defeated  the  troops  of 
Artaxia,  taking  as  hostage  a  son  of  Tiridates.  By 
threatening  to  make  this  nephew  of  Artaxia  suffer 
the  same  fate  as  Erona,  Plangus  contrived  to  post- 
pone Erona's  execution.  And  now  it  was  agreed 
that  Erona  was  to  be  placed  in  the  strong  castle  of 
a  great  nobleman  for  safe-keeping.  If  within  two 
to 


394  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IK 

years  after  Tiridates's  death  Pyrocles  and  Musi- 
dorus  should  overcome  two  champions  chosen  by 
Artaxia,  Erona  should  be  set  at  liberty;  if  not,  she 
should  be  burned.  To  this,  both  sides  took  solemn 
oath;  Plangus  being  willing  because  he  knew  the 
courtesy  and  prowess  of  those  princes,  who  would 
surely  consent  to  fight  for  Erona,  but  Artaxia  being 
willing  because  Plexirtus  had  just  informed  her  that 
he  had  caused  both  the  princes  to  perish  at  sea. 

Plangus  taking  leave  of  the  afflicted  Erona,  who 
wished  only  for  death  to  join  her  to  Antiphilus, 
went  to  Greece  to  notify  the  princes.  On  the  way 
he  intercepted  letters  from  Artaxia  to  Plexirtus, 
accepting  Plexirtus  as  her  husband  and  alluding  to 
the  Princes'  death  in  such  a  way  that  Plangus  in- 
quired further  in  Laconia,  and  found  that  their  ship 
had  indeed  been  lost.  He  concluded  that  they  must 
have  perished;  else  their  presence  would  surely  be 
known  in  Greece.  Now  came  word  from  Erona's 
warden,  that  Artaxia  had  broken  faith  and  was 
besieging  his  castle.  He  could  not  hold  out  long, 
and  begged  Plangus  to  come  to  his  aid,  for  now 
that  Plexirtus  was  King  of  Armenia  too  and  their 
own  party  consumed  in  the  war,  he  felt  that  he  could 
not  resist.  Plangus  as  a  last  resort  determined  to 
ask  aid  of  Evarchus  of  Macedon,  who  would  cer- 
tainly wish  to  avenge  the  death  of  his  son  Pyrocles. 
On  his  way,  Plangus  passed  through  Arcadia  and 
told  his  story  to  Basilius  and  the  princesses. 

(c)  (V.  446-448)  Plangus  moved  towards  By- 
zantium, where,  he  understood,  Evarchus  after  his 
victorious  siege  still  remained.  In  fact,  Evarchus 
had  undertaken  a  new  enterprise.  The  Latins  were 
threatening  him  on  the  West  and  he  was  engaged 
in  making  all  ready  against  them.  On  a  progress 
through  Macedon  to  see  that  his  orders  were  car- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  *95 

ried  out,  he  met  Plangus  who  had  turned  to  seek 
him  at  home.  Plangus  told  him  the  sad  news  of  the 
death  of  Pyrocles  and  Musidorus,  and  of  Erona's 
plight.  Evarchus  swore  never  to  return  to  Macedon 
till  he  had  pursued  to  death  the  murderers  of  his 
nephew  and  his  son,  and  at  once  dispatched  a  ship 
to  Byzantium  with  orders  to  the  governors  to  pre- 
pare for  war  in  the  East.  On  this  ship  Plangus 
sailed.  But  as  news  now  came  that  the  Latins  had 
given  up  their  purpose  of  war  against  Macedon, 
Evarchus  himself  with  a  fleet  set  sail  for  Byzan- 
tium. A  storm  scattered  this  fleet  and  cast  his  own 
ship  upon  the  coast  of  Laconia.  Learning  there  that 
after  Daiphantus's  departure  the  King  of  the  Mace- 
donians had  broken  treaty  with  the  Helots,  and  that 
these,  again  at  war,  hated  the  very  name  of  King, 
Evarchus  sought  the  nearest  place  of  safety  and 
hospitality, — Arcadia,  the  realm  of  his  old  friend 
Basilius. 

[Evarchus  enters  Main  Plot.  Episode  left  un- 
finished.] 

6.  Plangus  and  Andromana 

(a)  (II.  xv,  i66v.-i7iv.)  Plangus,  the  son  of 
the  widowed  King  of  Iberia,  had  an  intrigue  with 
a  citizen's  wife  (Andromana),  with  whom  his  father 
one  day  found  him.  But  Plang'is  convinced  his 
father  that  she  was  chaste, — indeed,  convinced  him 
so  thoroughly  that  he  fell  in  love  with  her  himself 
and  sent  Plangus  away  to  the  wars.  During  Plan- 
gus's  absence  her  husband  died,  and  she  so  managed 
the  old  King  that  by  the  time  Plangus  returned,  it 
was  to  find  her  his  stepmother  and  the  mother  of  a 
son  and  a  daughter  by  her  second  marriage.  She 
knew  him  conscious  of  her  guilt,  and  moreover  she 
now  again  solicited  him,  but  in  vain;  so  that  she 
became  his  bitter  enemy  and  began  to  plot  his  ruin. 


29  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

To  this  end  she  took  the  help  of  "  a  seruant  neere 
about  her  husband,"  an  ambitious  courtier  who  played 
on  the  King's  fears  and  pretended  to  be  himself  in 
fear  of  Plangus.  After  many  machinations  her  tool 
informed  Plangus — as  was  indeed  the  fact — that  his 
stepmother  was  conspiring  with  the  King  against 
his  life;  and  offered  to  take  him  to  a  secret  place 
where  he  might  overhear  them.  Plangus  was  led 
thither,  armed.  When  his  stepmother  knew  he  was 
there,  she  cried  and  grovelled  till  the  King  came, 
whereupon  she  told  him  with  feigned  reluctance 
that  Plangus  had  solicited  her,  and  had  offered  to 
kill  his  father  and  marry  her  as  soon  as  he  should 
be  King.  At  that,  in  ran  the  tool,  and  besought 
the  King  to  save  himself,  for  there  was  one  armed 
in  the  next  room.  Plangus  was  taken  prisoner,  his 
father  meaning  to  execute  him  the  next  day.  But 
a  little  army  of  his  friends  rescued  him,  and  if  he 
had  so  chosen,  would  have  given  him  the  crown. 
Plangus,  however,  chose  voluntary  exile  at  the  court 
of  his  cousin  Tiridates,  King  of  Armenia. 

As  an  ally  of  Tiridates,  Plangus  besieged  Erona, 
after  eleven  or  twelve  years  of  exile.  During  all 
this  time  his  father's  hatred  remained  unabated. 
He  sent  the  tool  to  poison  Plangus;  and  the  villain 
being  apprehended  confessed  all  before  his  execu- 
tion. But  even  this  confession  sent  in  writing  to 
the  King  failed  of  its  effect,  for  he  had  so  com- 
pletely resigned  his  government  to  his  wife  that  she 
intercepted  the  document.  And  now  Plangus's  long 
absence  made  it  possible  for  her  to  have  Palladius, 
her  son  by  her  second  marriage,  proclaimed  heir  to 
the  kingdom. 

(&)  (II.  xx,  ipo-xxi,  ig8v.)  But  Andromana  and 
Palladius  were  not  destined  to  prosper.  The  end  of 
Pyrocles's  adventure  with  Pamphilus  and  Dido 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  297 

brought  the  two  princes  Pyrocles  and  Musidorus  to 
the  Iberian  court.  Here  Andromana  fell  in  love 
with  them,  and  being  repulsed,  imprisoned  them. 
Still  she  allowed  them  to  take  part  in  the  tourna- 
ment upon  the  anniversary  of  her  marriage;  for 
Zelmane,  who  loved  Pyrocles  and  was  loved  by 
Palladius,  persuaded  her  lover  to  gain  this  favor 
for  her  beloved.  The  Princes  took  the  opportunity 
to  escape  with  Palladius.  They  routed  the  pursuing 
party  sent  by  Andromana,  but  in  the  melee  Pal- 
ladius was  slain.  Andromana  killed  herself  upon 
his  corpse. 

7.  Pamphilus  and  Dido 

(a)  (II.  xviii,  i8iv.-i85)  Pamphilus  was  an  ac- 
complished courtier  and  a  conqueror  of  ladies,  whom 
he  would  deceive  and  then  disdain.  When  at  length 
he  bethrothed  himself  to  one  (Leucippe),  his  former 
mistresses  conspired  to  punish  him.  Inveigling  him 
to  a  lonely  spot,  they  set  upon  him  and  bound  him 
with  garters,  and  pricked  him  sore  with  bodkins, 
Dido  showing  the  greatest  spite  and  trying  to  put 
out  his  eyes.  Pyrocles,  just  then  passing  on  his 
way  to  fight  Anaxius,  heard  Pamphilus's  cries  and 
put  to  flight  all  his  assailants  save  Dido.  From  her 
he  heard  this  story.  When  she  would  have  returned 
to  mangle  Pamphilus,  Pyrocles  restrained  her;  but 
when  certain  friends  of  Pamphilus  coming  up  would 
have  killed  her  at  Pamphilus's  request,  Pyrocles  pro- 
tected her;  so  that  in  the  end  peace  was  promised 
faithfully  on  both  sides,  and  Pyrocles  rode  on. 

(&)  (II.  xix,  i86-i9ov.)  Dido  on  her  way  home 
with  an  insufficient  guard  was  again  attacked  by 
Pamphilus  and  his  friends,  and  captured.  Bound 
before  him  on  his  horse  and  beaten  by  him  with 
rods,  she  was  borne  towards  her  father  Chremes's 
castle,  where  Pamphilus  meant  to  kill  her  in  her 


298  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

father's  sight.  On  their  way  they  passed  where 
Pyrocles  and  Anaxius  were  fighting;  and,  in  order 
to  rescue  Dido,  Pyrocles  left  the  combat  despite  the 
jeers  of  his  enemy.  He  overtook  the  crew,  from 
whom  he  quickly  liberated  her;  but  Pamphilus  es- 
caped. Dido  took  Pyrocles  to  pass  the  night  as  the 
guest  of  her  father,  a  rich  miser.  His  unwillingness 
to  maintain  his  daughter  had  driven  her  to  the  pro- 
tection of  Cecropia,  which,  however,  had  exposed 
her  to  the  arts  of  Pamphilus.  Unwillingly  admitted 
and  grudgingly  received  by  Chremes,  Pyrocles  upon 
Dido's  inquiry  told  his  name  and  estate;  whereupon 
his  wretched  host,  who  knew  that  Artaxia  had  set 
a  price  upon  the  head  of  Pyrocles,  sent  word  to 
the  commander  of  an  Iberian  garrison  near  by  that 
Pyrocles  would  next  morning  be  betrayed  into  the 
commander's  hands  at  a  certain  place  of  ambush 
agreed  upon.  Next  day  Chremes  accompanied  his 
guest  to  make  sure  of  the  success  of  the  treachery, 
and  Dido  to  prolong  her  farewell.  Pyrocles  was 
attacked  and  would  have  been  taken  but  for  Musi- 
dorus,  who  in  his  extremity  came  to  the  rescue. 
He  had  been  directed  thither  by  Chremes's  neigh- 
bors, whose  hatred  had  led  them  to  burn  his  house 
during  his  absence,  and  who  knew  that  Chremes's 
escort  could  bode  no  good  to  Pyrocles.  The  combat 
was  ended  by  the  arrival  of  the  King  of  Iberia,  by 
whose  orders  the  Captain  was  beheaded  and  Chremes 
hanged.  Dido,  in  attempting  to  save  Pyrocles  by 
placing  herself  between  him  and  his  enemies,  had 
been  slain. 

(c)  (II.  xxii,  199-200)  Worse  than  death  was  the 
fate  reserved  for  Pamphilus.  From  the  lament  of 
Leucippe,  to  whom  Pamphilus  had  been  betrothed, 
Pyrocles  later  learned  that  the  inconstant  one  had 
deserted  her  too,  and  had  married  Baccha,  an  ira- 


ELIZABETHAN  PROSE  FICTIOX  299 

perious  wanton.  Pyrocles  let  him  live,  considering 
that  to  kill  him  would  rather  be  to  spare  him  the 
punishment  that  life  with  such  a  woman  would  in- 
flict. Leucippe  retired  to  a  house  of  "  Vestall 
Nunnes." 

8.  Cecropia;  or  the  Captivity 

(III.  ii.  248-25ov.)  Six  pretty  country  girls  in- 
vite the  royal  party  to  attend  rural  sports  at  a  place 
in  the  woods  about  half  a  mile  from  the  lodges. 
Pamela,  Philoclea,  and  Pyrocles  (as  Zelmane)  go 
to  the  appointed  place,  take  refreshment,  and  wait 
for  the  "  devises  "  ;  instead  of  which,  armed  men 
rush  from  the  woods  and  take  them  prisoners  before 
Zelmane  can  draw.  Their  captors  place  them  on 
horseback  and  carry  them  to  a  castle  upon  a  high 
rock  in  the  midst  of  a  lake,  —  the  castle  of  Cecropia, 
who  receives  them  with  mock  courtesy  at  the  gate. 
They  are  placed  in  separate  lodgings. 

Cecropia,  going  to  her  son  Amphialus,  who  is  still 
in  bed  tending  the  wound  that  Pyrocles  gave  him 
(II.  xi,  154),  tells  him  who  are  her  captives.  As 
he  knows  nothing  of  her  wicked  devices,  he  begs 
her  to  tell  him  the  whole  story.  She  complies 


Basilius  lived  unmarried  till  he  was  nearly  three 
score,  and  led  everybody  to  believe  that  he  never 
would  marry.  So  his  younger  brother  (unnamed) 
was  regarded  as  heir  to  the  throne  of  Arcadia,  and 
as  such  obtained  the  hand  of  Cecropia,  daughter  of 
the  King  of  Argos.  As  Princess-Apparent  she  re- 
ceived great  homage;  and  in  this  felicity  her  son 
Amphialus  was  born.  Just  when  the  couple  had 
laid  a  plot  to  shorten  the  life  of  Basilius,  her  hus- 
band died.  She  still  had  much  honor  as  mother  of 
the  new  heir.  But  soon  Basilius  married  Gynecia, 
then  a  young  girl,  and  brought  her  to  queen  it  over 


300  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Cecropia;  nor  was  this  all,  for  now  the  birth  of 
Basilius's  daughters  cut  off  all  hope  of  the  throne 
for  Amphialus,  and  stripped  Cecropia  of  her  honors. 
She  tried  several  ways  to  destroy  the  house  of 
Arcadia:  it  was  she  that  let  loose  the  lion  and  the 
bear  that  attacked  the  Princesses;  it  was  she  that 
procured  Clinias  to  stir  up  the  recent  insurrection; 
and  the  leader  of  the  supposed  country  girls  who 
had  just  enticed  the  Princesses  into  her  hands  was 
her  protogee  Artesia,  disguised.  Had  it  not  been 
that  Amphialus  loved  Philoclea,  Cecropia  would,  she 
says,  already  have  had  the  Princesses  killed.  As  it 
is,  he  may  easily  have  his  will,  for  his  mistress  is 
his  captive. 

(III.  iii,  253~-255v.)  The  gallant  Amphialus  depre- 
cates his  mother's  course,  requires  that  Zelmane, 
though  his  enemy,  be  honorably  treated,  and  goes 
to  plead  his  cause  with  Philoclea.  Though  he  admits 
that  by  not  redressing  her  injury  he  makes  himself 
an  accessory  to  it,  yet  he  deprecates  her  anger,  and 
blames  all  on  the  tyrant  Love.  She  refuses  to  yield ; 
he  vows  that  no  violence  shall  be  used ;  she  threatens 
to  kill  herself  if  her  honor  be  jeoparded. 

(III.  iv,  256-259V.)  Amphialus  departs  to  prepare 
for  the  siege  he  knows  he  must  stand.  Throughout 
all  his  activity  Love  harasses  him,  with  many  con- 
tradictions and  antitheses,  till  at  length  he  asks  his 
mother  to  intercede  for  him. 

(III.  v,  26o-262v.)  Cecropia  finds  Philoclea  weep- 
ing, and  rallies  her  upon  spoiling  her  beauty.  With 
much  sophistry  she  leads  up  to  her  plea  for  Am- 
phialus; and  when  Philoclea  answers  that  she  has 
vowed  virginity,  proceeds  to  set  forth  the  joys  of 
matrimony.  Philoclea  replies  that  she  cannot  con- 
sider any  proposal  as  long  as  she  is  a  prisoner.  So 
(III.  vi,  263~265v.)  the  conference  ends.  Now  Ce- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  3OI 

cropia  bethinks  her  that  Pamela  may  be  more  tract- 
able, and  that  if  so,  Amphialus  may  be  content  with 
her  instead.  Going  to  Pamela's  door  Cecropia  listens 
and  overhears  Pamela  praying  for  a  mind  steadfast, 
pure,  and  to  the  will  of  God  submiss.  Abashed  by 
her  captive's  virtue,  Cecropia  yet  attempts  her,  too, 
with  eloquence  and  gifts,  but  in  vain. 

(III.  vii,  266v.-III.  ix,  277)  Now  follow  alarums 
and  excursions;  of  which  the  chief  incidents  are  an 
indecisive  combat  between  Amphialus  and  a  Black 
Knight  (=Musidorus)  and  the  capture  of  Philanax, 
who  is  afterward  released  by  Amphialus  at  the 
prayer  of  Philoclea. 

Cecropia  continues  to  woo  both  the  Princesses  sepa- 
rately, "  determining  that  whome  she  coulde  winne 
first,  the  other  shoulde  (without  her  sonnes  knowl- 
edge) by  poyson  be  made  away."  Today,  having 
vainly  tried  to  persuade  Philoclea  by  praising  Am- 
phialus for  his  mercy  (III.  x,  278-284)  to  Philanax, 
Cecropia  goes  to  Pamela,  who  refutes  all  Cecropia's 
atheistic  arguments. 

Meanwhile  Basilius  slowly  prosecutes  the  siege 
(III.  xi,  284v.-289v.),  and  the  sallies  of  Amphialus 
are  vain.  Phalantus  now  challenges  any  gentleman 
on  Amphialus's  side  to  single  combat;  Amphialus 
accepts  the  challenge,  fights  him  incognito,  van- 
quishes but  spares  him,  and  exchanges  with  him 
pledges  of  friendship. 

(III.  xii,  289V.-296)  Cecropia  lays  before  Philo- 
clea this  victory  as  a  homage  from  Amphialus,  who 
now  proclaims  a  general  challenge.  When  he  has 
defeated  and  killed  many  of  the  King's  bravest 
champions,  the  King  sends  for  Argalus.  Him  the 
messenger  finds  with  Parthenia — a  pair  of  wedded 
lovers;  but  Argalus  putting  aside  his  wife's  remon- 
stances  goes  at  the  call  of  duty,  In  a  terrible  com- 


302  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

bat  Amphialus  at  last  gives  Argalus  a  mortal 
wound.  Parthenia  receives  her  husband's  dying 
breath.  He  is  buried  with  military  pomp;  she  is 
inconsolable. 

(III.  xiii,  296v.~30i)  Clinias's  reputation  for 
cowardice  has  reached  the  ears  of  Dametas,  who 
thinks  to  gain  honor  cheaply  by  challenging  him. 
Egged  on  by  several  young  gentlemen,  he  sends  his 
challenge,  which  Amphialus  compels  Clinias  to  ac- 
cept. The  two  cowards  meet  in  the  island,  where 
retreat  is  impossible,  and  fight  a  comical  combat,  in 
which  by  accident  Dametas  gains  the  victory. 

(III.  xiv,  301-304)  The  consequent  disgrace  to 
Clinias  sets  him  plotting  vengeance  against  Am- 
phialus. To  this  end  he  finds  an  ally  in  Artesia, 
who,  having  been  induced  to  entrap  the  Princesses 
by  the  prospect  that  they  should  be  killed  and  that 
she  should  then  marry  Amphialus,  now  sees  herself 
scorned  for  the  sake  of  one  of  those  very  Princesses 
whom  she  herself  has  brought  thither.  Artesia, 
ready  for  anything,  confides  in  Zelmane,  who  wishes 
no  more  than  to  be  provided  with  a  sword;  but 
Clinias  is  for  opening  a  gate  to  the  enemy  and  for 
having  Amphialus  poisoned.  Clinias  and  Artesia 
agree  upon  the  latter  plan,  and  decide  to  disclose  it 
to  the  Princesses  in  order  to  be  saved  by  them  from 
the  fury  of  the  entering  soldiers,  and  to  secure  to 
themselves  future  reward.  Clinias  therefore  tells 
Philoclea,  who  be^s  him  to  give  up  the  plan,  but 
promises  not  to  betray  him.  Artesia  tells  Pamela, 
who  loudly  denounces  both  the  plan  and  the  traitress. 
Cecropia  overhearing  the  conversation  inquires  what 
it  is  all  about,  and  is  referred  to  Artesia,  who  under 
threat  of  torture  confesses  all.  Clinias  is  executed, 
Artesia  locked  up  in  her  chamber. 

(III.  xv,  304v,-JII.  xvi,  31  iv.)  The  proud  Anax- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  303 

ius,  after  several  fights  with  Amphialus,  has  on  one 
occasion  saved  his  life  and  has  consequently  become 
his  friend.  Searching  for  Pyrocles  to  finish  their 
combat  (see  b;  II.  xix,  186),  Anaxius  has  heard 
of  the  siege  and  now  comes  to  aid  Amphialus.  With 
his  two  strong  brothers,  Lycurgus  and  Zoilus,  he 
breaks  through  Basilius's  camp  from  the  rear,  but 
is  being  repulsed  by  Philanax,  when  Amphialus  also 
sallies  forth,  takes  one  of  Basilius's  outposts,  and 
receives  Anaxius  and  his  brothers. 

The  "Knight  of  the  Tomb,"  challenges  Am- 
phialus but  will  not  reveal  his  identity.  In  the 
fight,  Amphialus  wounds  him  mortally,  and  pulling 
off  his  helmet  reveals  Parthenia.  With  the  words 
"  I  come,  I  come,  my  Argalus,"  she  dies.  Amid  the 
lamentations  of  all  she  is  buried  in  the  same  tomb 
with  Argalus. 

(III.  xvii,  312-314)  Amphialus  retires  in  deep 
melancholy,  breaks  his  sword,  and  recalls  his  fate 
in  killing  against  his  will  both  Philoxenus  and  Par- 
thenia, and  in  keeping  Philoclea  captive  without  any 
chance  of  success.  Cecropia  rallies  him  upon  his 
soft-heartedness,  and  counsels  violence. 

(III.  xviii,  3I4V.-III.  xix,  325v.)  A  challenge  from 
the  "  Forsaken  Knight "  is  delivered  and  accepted. 
Amphialus  meets  upon  the  island  his  adversary,  who 
is  no  other  than  the  Black  Knight  (=Musidorus). 
There  ensues  a  tremendous  battle,  in  which  each 
wounds  the  other  so  sorely  that  Amphialus  falls  in 
a  swoon,  and  Musidorus  is  driven  by  his  faintness 
to  give  over  fighting.  He  is  taken  away  unconscious 
and  kept  secretly  in  a  castle  near  by  to  recover  of 
his  wounds.  Cecropia  finding  herself  in  full  control 
as  long  as  her  son  is  disabled,  resolves  to  force  the 
Princesses'  consent.  First,  to  rid  herself  of  con- 
straint from  without,  she  announces  to  Basilius  that 


304  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

if  he  does  not  raise  the  siege  she  will  cause  the  three 
prisoners  to  be  beheaded  before  his  eyes;  and  she 
places  a  scaffold  on  the  walls,  where  she  exhibits 
the  captives  ready  for  execution.  The  King  decides 
to  raise  the  siege.  Leaving  Philanax  in  general 
charge,  Basilius  retires  to  a  castle  with  the  Queen. 

(III.  xx,  325V.-III.  xxi,  332)  After  again  trying 
flattery  and  suasion  upon  the  Princesses,  Cecropia 
resorts  first  to  threats,  then  to  indignities,  then  to 
hardships,  and  at  length  to  scourgings  and  other 
bodily  tortures.  All  is  vain:  Philoclea  begs  only 
for  death ;  Pamela  will  not  even  do  so  much.  Ce- 
cropia resolves  to  break  the  resolution  of  the  one 
by  threatening  the  death  of  the  other  if  she  will  not 
yield.  Philoclea,  unmoved  by  this  threat,  only  asks 
that  she  herself  be  chosen  for  execution.  Cecropia 
refuses,  and  bids  her  prepare  to  see  Pamela  be- 
headed. Zelmane  and  Philoclea  looking  inward 
upon  the  hall  of  the  castle  from  the  windows  of  their 
chambers,  behold  the  execution  of  a  lady  dressed 
in  Pamela's  clothes,  but  with  most  of  her  face  cov- 
ered (really  Artesia:  III.  xxiii,  339). 

(III.  xxii,  332v.~336v.)  Learning  of  the  attach- 
ment between  Zelmane  and  Philoclea,  Cecropia 
threatens  Zelmane  that  unless  she  persuades  Philo- 
clea to  yield,  Philoclea  shall  also  be  beheaded. 
After  a  night  of  conflicting  emotions  and  councils, 
Zelmane  resolves  that  Philoclea's  life  must  be  saved 
at  all  costs;  and  advises  her  to  feign  submission; 
in  consideration  whereof  he  may  be  set  at  liberty 
and  perchance  get  a  sword.  Submission  may  also 
gain  delay  which  will  give  him  the  opportunity  to 
gather  a  rescuing  force.  But  she  firmly  declines  all 
dissimulation. 

Roused  by  an  unusual  noise  in  the  night,  Zelmane 
goes  to  the  window  overlooking  the  hall  and  sees 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  305 

there  upon  the  scaffold  Philoclea's  head  in  a  bloody 
basin.  In  his  frenzy  he  tries  to  brain  himself  against 
the  wall,  but  slips  and  falls  into  a  swoon;  whence 
recovering  he  resolves  to  live  for  vengeance,  and 
laments  most  grievously. 

(III.  xxiii,  337-111.  xxiv,  343v.)  About  dawn  as 
he  lies  tossing  on  his  bed  he  hears  a  rustling  in  his 
room,  and  a  voice  answers  his  challenge.  It  is  Philo- 
clea's, who  explains  that  neither  she  nor  Pamela  is 
dead :  Artesia  it  was  who  was  executed  in  Pamela's 
dress;  and  Philoclea's  living  head  was  thrust  through 
a  hole  in  the  bottom  of  a  basin.  Now,  owing  per- 
haps to  Amphialus's  discovering,  despite  his  mother's 
secrecy,  something  of  her  treatment  of  the  Prin- 
cesses, Philoclea  and  Pamela  have  been  allowed 
together  and  Philoclea  has  been  allowed  to  come  to 
Zelmane.  The  lovers  mingle  their  joy  and  their 
tears.  Philoclea  returns  to  Pamela's  chamber,  where 
soon  Amphialus  appears.  Kept  in  the  dark  by  his 
mother,  he  has  nevertheless  had  misgivings  about 
her  treatment  of  the  captives.  Now  Pamela's  words 
leave  him  in  no  doubt.  By  threatening  torture,  he 
gets  the  dreadful  details  from  one  of  his  mother's 
women.  In  despair  he  seizes  a  sword,  meaning  to 
kill  himself  in  the  sight  of  his  mother,  who  is  on 
the  leads  of  the  castle  meditating  how  she  may 
secretly  poison  the  Princesses.  When  she  sees  him 
coming  she  thinks  his  drawn  sword  meant  for  her, 
and  retreating  hastily,  falls  to  the  ground.  Even 
as  she  dies,  she  directs  that  the  Princesses  be  killed, 
but  none  obeys.  Amphialus  recalls  his  evil  destiny 
in  causing  the  deaths  of  Philoxenus,  Timotheus, 
Parthenia,  Ismenus,  and  his  own  mother,  and  in 
procuring  the  torture  of  his  beloved.  He  falls  upon 
his  sword,  which  slipping  kills  him  not.  His  old 
wounds  reopen,  and  with  Philoclea's  knives  he  stabs 
himself.  He  is  taken  up  almost  dead. 

31 


306  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

(III.  xxv,  344-248v.)  Anaxius  takes  command  of 
the  castle,  forces  the  inmates  to  swear  allegiance  to 
him,  and  vows  he  will  kill  the  Princesses  as  causers 
of  his  friend's  death.  Queen  Helen  of  Corinth  ar- 
rives and  with  Anaxius's  permission  takes  away  the 
almost  lifeless  body  of  Amphialus  to  be  cured  by  a 
surgeon  of  her  own. 

(III.  xxvi,  349v.-352v.)  Anaxius  announces  to  the 
Princesses  that  upon  his  return  from  escorting 
Queen  Helen  he  will  cut  off  their  heads.  They  face 
him  with  fortitude.  At  the  sight  of  Pamela's  beauty 
he  pauses,  and  receives  from  Zelmane  a  challenge  to 
mortal  combat.  At  this,  as  coming  from  a  woman, 
he  smiles;  whereupon  Zelmane  declares  herself  the 
equal  of  Pyrocles  who  slew  Anaxius's  uncle  Evardes, 
nay,  the  closest  possible  kinsman  to  that  same  Pyro- 
cles, and  invites  Anaxius  to  avenge  upon  her  the 
wrongs  he  considers  Pyrocles  to  have  done  him: 
otherwise  Zelmane  brands  him  as  a  dastard.  Though 
Anaxius  declines  the  challenge  he  yet  of  his  own 
accord  spares  the  lives  of  the  Princesses,  and  makes 
odious  love  to  Pamela.  Summarily  rejected,  he  goes 
away  for  the  time,  leaving  Lycurgus  to  court  Philo- 
clea  and  Zoilus  to  court  Zelmane. 

(III.  xxvii,  353-355V.)  When  the  brothers  are 
gone,  Zelmane  persuades  the  Princesses  to  gain 
time  by  promising  to  yield  if  Basilius  shall  consent. 
Accordingly,  Anaxius  sends  a  flattering  messenger 
to  the  King,  who,  irresolute,  again  refers  the  ques- 
tion to  Apollo's  oracle.  This  time  the  answer  comes 
plain:  He  is  to  deny  his  daughters  to  their  present 
suitors,  for  they  are  reserved  for  such  as  are  better 
beloved  of  the  Gods;  he  is  to  have  no  fear,  for  they 
will  return  to  him  safely  and  speedily ;  he  is  to  con- 
tinue his  retired  life  until  both  he  and  Philanax 
agree  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  former  prophecy. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  307 

Anaxius's  messenger  takes  back  a  resolute  negative, 
which  he  dresses  up  flatteringly  to  tell  his  master. 
Anaxius,  however,  resolves  to  use  violence;  but, 
word  being  brought  of  the  approach  of  an  armed 
force,  he  orders  the  soldiers  to  the  walls,  and  with 
his  brothers  remains  within  to  carry  out  his  intent. 

(III.  xxviii,  356-III.  xxix,  36ov.)  Zoilus  an- 
nounces to  the  Princesses  a  version  of  Basilius's 
answer  distorted  so  as  to  appear  favorable,  and  pro- 
ceeds towards  Zelmane,  who  begs  that  he  allow  her 
to  perform  a  vow  of  hers  never  to  marry  but  such 
an  one  as  can  withstand  her  in  arms.  Turning  this 
to  a  jest,  he  tries  to  embrace  her;  she  trip's  him  up, 
takes  his  sword  from  him,  pursues  him  to  the  pres- 
ence of  his  brothers,  and  there  kills  him.  Anaxius 
disdainfully  leaving  to  Lycurgus  the  task  of  revenge, 
goes  down  and  locks  that  part  of  the  castle  off  from 
the  rest.  Zelmane  snatches  a  shield  from  the  wall 
and  quickly  induces  Lycurgus  to  beg  mercy.  She 
would  grant  it  did  she  not  see  on  his  arm  a  garter 
which  she  has  given  Philoclea,  and  which  Lycurgus 
has  forced  from  her.  At  that  she  runs  him  through, 
just  as  Anaxius  returns.  Anaxius  and  Zelmane 
fight  till  both  are  out  of  breath,  and  having  rested, 
resume  the  fight. 

[End  of  quarto  of  1590  The  later  eds.  continue 
the  story,  after  a  gap.  See  F.] 


Reduced  to  lowest  terms,  the  "Arcadia" 
amounts  to  this:  Having  received  a  paradoxical 
oracle,  a  king  endeavors  to  prevent  its  accom- 
plishment; nevertheless  the  oracle  is  accom- 
plished, and  under  circumstances  issuing  in  the 
following  catastrophe:  at  a  public  spectacular 
trial,  a  father  not  knowing  his  own  son  condemns 


308  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

him  to  death;  the  son's  identity  is  declared  by  a 
deus  ex  machina  who  arrives  just  in  time ; 
women's  chastity  is  vindicated ;  and  the  conclu- 
sion is  a  double  marriage  of  princely  lovers,  the 
vicissitudes  of  whose  Fortune  have  been  so 
ordered  by  Providence  as  to  unite  them  at  last. 
It  is  evident  that  we  have  here  the  grandiose 
Heliodorean  framework. la  The  attribution  to 
Greek  Romance  is  confirmed  by  detailed  exami- 
nation of  several  motifs  and  incidents  of  this 
plot,  as  well  as  several  of  its  episodes. 

Not  especially  attributable  to  any  one  of  the 
Greek  Romances  is  Sidney's  employment  of  the 
stock  incidents  of  shipwreck  (I.  i;  II.  vii)  and 
of  what  Herr  Brunhuber  (p.  22)  calls  "  Das  Eros 
Motiv  " : — A  youth  or  maid  who  formerly  scoffed 
at  Love  becomes  the  slave  of  Love.  So  it  was 
with  Clitophon  before  he  met  Leucippe,  so  with 
Rhodopis  and  Euthynicus  before  they  met  (A. 
T.,  I.  vii ;  VIII.  xii) ,  so  with  Theagenes  and  with 
Chariclea  (JEih.,  II.  xxxiii).  So  it  is  with 
Musidorus,  who,  before  he  has  seen  Pamela, 
sharply  reproves  the  love  of  Pyrocles  for  Philo- 
clea  (Arc.,  I.  xii,  SIY.)  and  later  falls  a  victim 
himself,  affording  Sidney  opportunity  for  a  richly 
humorous  scene  (Arc.,  I.  xviii,  77v. ;  see  post 
p.  330).  So  it  is  too,  and  seriously,  with  Erona, 
whose  sad  story  (Arc.,  II.  xiii,  I59v.)  begins  with 
her  ill-starred  love  for  Antiphilus, — a  punishment 

la  If  external  evidence  that  Sidney  knew  the  "^thiopica  " 
were  needed,  it  would  be  supplied  by  the  allusions  in  his 
"  Apologie  for  Poetrie "  (ed.  Collins)  :  "...  so  true  a 
louer  as  Theagenes "  (p.  8)  ;  "  Heliodorus  in  his  sugred 
inuention  of  that  picture  of  loue  in  Theagenes  and  Chari- 
clea" (p.  12). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  309 

inflicted  upon  her  by  Cupid  for  her  sacrilege  in 
seeking  to  abolish  his  cult.2 

More  definite  is  the  provenance  of  the  follow- 
ing incidents.  Musidorus  (Arc.,  III.  347)  tells 
how  "  Pamela,  upon  his  vehement  oath  to  offer 
no  force  unto  her,  till  hee  had  invested  her  in 
the  Dutchie  of  Thessalia,  had  condescended  to 
his  stealing  her  away  to  the  next  sea  port." 
Lovers  elope  in  both  Heliodorus  and  Achilles 
Tatius;  but  only  in  Heliodorus  does  their  vow 
of  chastity  precede  the  elopement;  and  only  in 
Heliodorus  does  it  look  to  their  formal  entry 
into  a  kingdom.  In  the  "Arcadia"  as  in  the 
"^Ethiopica"  this  abduction  is  structural:  it  is 
essential  to  the  main  plot,  and  leads  through  the 
capture  of  the  lovers,  straight  to  the  denouement, 
where  it  figures  as  one  of  the  charges  brought 
against  Theagenes  and  against  Musidorus  alike. 

Again,  in  each  denouement,  as  has  been  briefly 
noted  (ante,  p.  307),  a  father  condemns  to  death 
his  own  child,  restored  to  him  after  many  wan- 
derings; in  each,  the  father  is  unaware  of  the 
identity  of  the  child,  who  maintains  a  preter- 
natural silence  on  this  point ;  in  each,  the  recogni- 
tion is  brought  about  by  the  arrival,  in  the  nick 
of  time,  of  a  person  (Charicles,  Calodoulos)  who 
has  travelled  from  a  distance  to  the  place  of  trial. 
If  Calodoulos  were  a  priest,  the  parallel  would  be 
complete. 

Several  minor  incidents  and  situations  in  the 
"  Arcadia,"  less  structural  than  the  foregoing,  are 
no  less  unmistakably  borrowed  from  the 

2  Herr  Brunhuber  (p.  22)  mentions  the  case  of  Erona. 


310  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

"JEthiopica."  Herr  Brunhuber  (p.  20)  calls  at- 
tention to  one  of  them — an  incident  of  the  previ- 
ous history  of  Pyrocles :  his  leadership  of  the  in- 
surgent Helots  (Arc.,  I.  vi,  28;  I.  viii,  34v.), 
parallel  to  Thyamis's  leadership  of  the  Herdsmen. 
The  parallel  is  repeated  in  the  case  of  Demagoras 
(Arc.,  I.  v)  perhaps  somewhat  more  closely,  for 
both  Demagoras  and  Thyamis  have  been  ban- 
ished before  they  become  captains  of  outlaws. 

Another  situation  which  Sidney  has  used  twice 
is  in  Heliodorus's  passage  (^th.,  V.  iii)  about 
the  nocturnal  fright  of  Cnemon:  overhearing 
Chariclea's  soliloquy  in  which  she  names  herself 
Thisbe,  Cnemon  is  panic-stricken,  and  beats  a 
hasty  retreat  in  the  dark,  groping  and  stumbling 
and  bumping  his  head  and  stubbing  his  toes  till  he 
reaches  his  own  chamber.  So  Pyrocles  (Arc., 
III.  353)  in  the  darkness  of  a  cave  overhears  a 
woman  soliloquizing  and  at  last  naming  herself — • 
Gynecia ;  he  retreats  in  a  panic,  and  stumbling  in 
the  dark  makes  so  much  noise  that  she  discovers 
him.  Again  (Arc.,  III.  379),  Basilius  about  to 
go  to  his  rendezvous  with  Zelmane,  waits  eagerly 
till  he  thinks  his  wife  asleep;  then  "he  came 
darkeling  into  his  chamber,  forcing  himselfe  to 
tread  as  softly  as  hee  could.  But  the  more  curi- 
ous he  was,  the  more  he  thought  everything 
creaked  under  him,  and  ...  his  eyes  not  seruing 
his  turne  in  that  darke  place,  each  Coffer  or  Cup- 
bord  hee  met,  one  saluted  his  shinnes,  another  his 
elbowes." 

In  order  to  make  clear  the  borrowings  next  to 
be  mentioned,  a  preliminary  observation  is  neces- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  311 

sary.  For  the  travels  of  the  two  lovers  in  Greek 
Romance,  Sidney  substitutes  the  travels  of  the 
two  princely  friends  and  kinsmen  who  are  his 
heroes.  The  substitution  probably  is  due  to 
mediaeval  influence,  particularly  that  of  the 
"  Legend  of  Two  Friends  "  (see  ante  p.  250 ;  post, 
p.  364  n.  37)  and  of  the  romances  of  chivalry;3 
and  offers  Sidney  a  chance  to  lead  his  heroes  on 
a  tour  of  knight-errantry  through  Asia.  But  at 
the  same  time  this  is  his  "  Reiseroman  " ;  and  it  is 
diversified  with  the  usual  incidents  of  these  wan- 
derings. Like  the  Greek  lovers,  the  friends  are 
shipwrecked  (Arc.,  I.  i ;  II.  vii)  ;  just  as  pirates 
capture  the  lady  in  Greek  Romance,  and  separate 
her  from  her  lover,  so  do  pirates  capture  one 
of  the  friends  and  keep  him  for  awhile  from 
his  fellow  (Arc.,  I.  i)  ;  and  as  the  lovers  are 
imprisoned  together,  so  are  the  friends  (./Eth., 
VIII.  x;  Arc.,  IV.  433  ;  II.  xx,  IQ2V.). 

Narrative  material  from  Heliodorus  is  used  by 
Sidney  for  three  of  his  episodes.  In  the 
"^Ethiopica"  (VII.  xviii,  xxi,  xxv)  Theagenes 
and  Chariclea  are  the  prisoners  of  Arsace,  who 
desires  him.  He  is  tortured,  and  threatened  with 
death  if  he  will  not  yield.  Chariclea  advises  him 
to  feign  compliance  in  order  to  gain  time.  He 
refuses  to  dissemble.  In  Sidney's  episode  of 
the  Captivity  (Arc.,  III.  xxii,  333~334v.)  Pyro- 

*  For  Sidney's  borrowings  from  "  Amadis  of  Gaul  " — the 
chief  portions  of  the  episodes  of  Phalantus  and  Artesia 
and  of  Pamphilus  and  Dido  ;  the  fight  of  Musidorus  and 
Ismenus  about  the  armor  of  Amphialus ;  the  disguise  of 
Pyrocles,  and  his  double  qui-pro-quo  with  Basilius  and 
Gynecia — see  Moody,  pp.  34-47 ;  Brunhuber,  pp.  14-19,  and 
post,  pp.  318-319. 


312  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

cles  and  Philoclea  are  the  prisoners  of  Amphia- 
lus,  who  desires  her.  She  is  tortured,  and 
threatened  with  death  if  she  will  not  yield. 
Pyrocles  advises  her  to  feign  compliance  in  order 
to  gain  time.  She  refuses  to  dissemble. 

In  the  other  two  cases  Heliodorus  furnishes  the 
main  body  of  Sidney's  whole  episode.  The  first 
is  the  episode  of  the  "  Paphlagonica  "  or  "  Gala- 
tica"  (Arc.,  II.  x,  I43V.-I46),  founded  upon 
Heliodorus's  story  of  Calasiris,  Petosiris,  and 
Thyamis  (^Eth.,  I.  xix;  VII.  ii,  vi,  viii,  xi)  : 
One  of  two  brothers  (Petosiris;  Plexirtus)  by 
slander  usurps  the  birthright  of  the  other 
(Thyamis ;  Leonatus),  causes  his  banishment,  and 
attempts  his  life.  Their  father  too  (Calasiris; 
unnamed  King  of  Paphlagonia)  goes  into  exile. 
The  injured  brother  returns  to  his  native  country, 
fights  for  and  regains  his  birthright,  and  forgives 
the  usurper.  The  father  also  returns,  formally 
invests  the  true  heir  with  his  rights,  and  im- 
mediately dies.  Sidney  added  greatly  to  the 
point  and  pathos  of  Heliodorus's  tale  by  having 
the  King  himself  turned  against  the  good  son  and 
seeking  his  life;  by  having  the  King  blinded  by 
the  wicked  son;  and  by  inventing  the  passage 
where  the  old  man  begs  to  be  led  to  the  top  of 
a  rock  that  he  may  end  his  life  by  leaping  down. 
Sidney  also  ministered  to  the  surviving  mediaeval 
and  chivalric  ideas  of  his  time  by. making  the 
wicked  son  a  bastard.  He  thus  somewhat  recast 
his  original,  or  at  least  gave  it  a  tone  foreign  to 
Heliodorus.  Probably  it  was  this  new  tone  which 
attracted  Shakespeare,  who,  in  the  underplot  of 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  313 

Gloucester  and  his  sons,  in  "  King  Lear,"  re- 
tained, though  with  changes  again,  the  features 
which  Sidney  added,  and  added  besides  much 
new  matter  of  his  own.  The  result  is  a  complete 
transformation  of  the  plot  and  personages  of  the 
Greek  Romance.  In  Shakespeare's  underplot, 
and  in  the  characters  of  Gloucester,  Edgar  and 
Edmund,  it  is  difficult  to  trace  any  part  of  the 
story  as  told  in  the  "^Ethiopica,"  or  to  recognize 
the  old  priest  of  Memphis  and  his  two  sons. 

The  third  of  Sidney's  episodes  shows  still 
greater  indebtedness  to  Heliodorus.  It  is  the 
episode  of  Plangus  and  Andromana,  derived  from 
the  stories  of  Heliodorus's  two  amorous  women, 
Demaeneta  and  Arsace.4  Andromana  combines 
these  in  her  own  story  and  character.  Like 
Demaeneta  (^th.,  I.  x-xvii),  she  solicits  her 
stepson  (Cnemon;  Plangus),  and  being  rejected 
ruins  him  by  means  of  low  intrigue  in  which  she 
employs  a  servant  as  her  tool  (Thisbe  ;  unnamed). 
In  each  case  the  stepmother  slanders  the  son  to 
his  father.  In  each  case  she  arranges  a  ren- 
dezvous in  the  dark,  where  the  son  is  made  to 
appear  as  an  intended  parricide.  In  each  case  the 
son  is  exiled ;  and  the  intriguing  servant  later 
confesses  and  dies.  Like  Arsace,  Andromana  at 
another  time  is  in  love  with  two  of  the  heroes  of 
the  story  (Theagenes  and  Thyamis;  Pyrocles  and 
Musidorus) — the  affairs  being  successive  in  the 
"yEthiopica,"  simultaneous  in  the  "Arcadia." 
Rejected  by  both  heroes,  she  vainly  tries  the  effect 
of  imprisonment  and  continued  solicitation. 

*  Oeftering,  p.  94,  and  Brunhuber,  p.  20,  recognize  in  it 
the  story  of  Demaeneta  only. 


3  H  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Finally,  like  both  Arsace  and  Demaeneta,  Andro- 
mana  kills  herself. — The  derivation  of  Andro- 
mana  and  her  story  from  a  deliberate  combination 
of  Arsace  and  Demaeneta  is  corroborated  by  the 
history  of  the  growth  of  this  episode  under  Sid- 
ney's hand  (post,  p.  348  ff.). 

It  is  from  Achilles  Tatius  that  Sidney  takes  his 
other  amorous  woman,  Queen  Gynecia.  Her 
fully  rounded  character,5  among  the  compara- 
tively pale  types  surrounding  her,  would  lead  the 
reader  to  suspect  her  kinship  with  Melitta.  The 
suspicion  is  confirmed  by  parallel  incidents.  Her 
passionate  pleading  for  the  love  of  Pyrocles 
(Arc.,  III.  353-4,  365-7 ;  cf.  A.  T.,  V.  xxv,  xxvi) 
at  length  results  in  a  promise  of  compliance — a 
promise  of  which  Pyrocles,  like  Clitophon,  puts 
off  the  fulfilment,  and  which,  again  like  Clito- 
phon, he  means  not  to  fulfil.  In  Clitophon's  case 
this  intention  is  melted  by  Melitta's  flame,  while 
Pyrocles  remains  steadfast;  but  Clitophon  and 
Pyrocles  each  exchange  garments  with  their  re- 
spective innamoratas;  and  each  is  afterward 
arrested  in  these  garments  (A.  T.,  VI.  i,  iii,  v; 
Arc.,  III.  378,  408,  423). 

Other  incidents  or  situations  borrowed  from 
Achilles  Tatius  are  the  following:  Pyrocles  at  a 
feast  with  Philoclea,  like  Clitophon  at  his  first 
meal  with  Leucippe,  can  look  only  at  her.  His 
eyes,  he  confesses  later  (Arc.,  I!  xiv,  62v. ;  cf. 
A.  T.,  I.  iv,  v.  ix ;  II.  ix ;  V.  xiii)  "  dranke  much 
more  eagerly  of  her  beautie,  then  my  mouth  did 

1 "  Unter  den  vielen  Charakteren,  die  haufig  jede  psy- 
chologische  Vertiefung  vermissen  lassen,  ragt  nur  die  starke 
Personlichkeit  Gynecias  hervor." — Brunhuber,  p.  9. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  315 

of  any  other  Hcour.  And  ...  as  I  dranke  the 
wine,  and  withall  stole  a  looke  on  her,  me  seemed 
I  tasted  her  deliciousnesse." 

The  heroic  spectacle,  and  the  spectacular 
heroics,  of  shipwrecked  Pyrocles  riding  the  waves 
upon  a  mast  (Arc.,  I.  4V.-5),  Sidney  elaborated 
from  the  similar  passage  about  Clinias  (A.  T., 
III.  v).  Musidorus  and  the  Laconian  shepherds 
sail  out  towards  the  wreck  to  recover  Pyrocles; 
when  "  Vpon  the  mast  they  saw  a  yong  man  .  .  . 
his  haire  .  .  .  stirred  vp  and  down  with  the  wind 
.  .  .  himselfe  full  of  admirable  beautie,  set 
foorth  by  the  strangenes  both  of  his  seate  and 
gesture :  for,  holding  his  head  up  full  of  vnmoued 
maiestie,  he  held  a  sworde  aloft  with  his  faire 
arme,  which  often  he  waued  about  his  crowne 
as  though  he  would  threaten  the  world  in  that 
extremitie." 

The  rescuers  (Arc.,  I.  i,  5-5  v.)  sail  towards 
Pyrocles,  "  when  one  of  the  saylers  descried  a 
Galley  which  came  with  sayles  and  oares  directlie 
in  the  chase  of  them;  and  streight  perceaued  it 
was  a  well  knowne  Pirate.  .  .  .  Which  when  the 
Maister  vnderstood,  he  commanded  forthwith  to 
set  on  all  the  canuasse  they  could,  and  flie  home- 
ward, leaving  in  that  sort  poore  Pyrocles  so  neere 
to  be  reskewed.  But  what  did  not  Musidorus 
say?  What  did  he  not  offer  to  perswade  them 
to  venture  the  fight  ?  "  In  vain ;  the  captain  turns 
back. — This  incident  is  closely  parallel  to  that  in 
A.  T.,  V.  vii :  The  governor  of  Pharos,  with  Clito- 
phon,  puts  out  t&  rescue  Leucippe ;  but  at  the 
approach  of  a  galley  full  of  pirates  he  returns  to 
shore  despite  the  entreaties  of  Clitophon. 


316  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

When  the  two  Princes  are  returning  from  Asia, 
Plexirtus  commissions  the  Captain  of  their  ship 
to  murder  them.  The  Captain  resists  all  attempts 
to  dissuade  him,  and  Sidney  explains  this  bloody- 
mindedness  by  recalling  the  fact  that  he  "had 
bene  a  pyrate  from  his  youth,  and  often  blouded 
in  it"  (Arc.,  II.  xxiv,  210).  Similarly,  the  action 
of  Chaereas  in  hiring  pirates  to  kidnap  Leucippe, 
is  explained  by  his  earlier  association  with  the 
pirates  of  Pharos  (A.  T.,  IV.  xviii;  V.  iii). 

In  Sidney's  episode  of  the  Princesses'  captivity, 
the  brutal  Anaxius,  forcing  his  caresses  upon 
Pamela,  takes  her  by  the  chin  (Arc.,  III.  xxvi, 
352).  "Putting  him  away  with  her  faire  hand, 
Proud  beast  (said  she)  yet  thou  plaiest  worse  thy 
Comedy,  then  thy  Tragedy."  Thersander,  forc- 
ing his  caresses  upon  Leucippe,  also  takes  her  by 
the  chin,  and  also  receives  a  sharp  reproof  (A. 
T.,  VI.  xviii). 

Achilles  Tatius's  trick  of  a  pretended  execu- 
tion, which  he  employs  twice  (A.  T.,  III.  xv;  V. 
vii),  Sidney  employs  three  times, — twice  in  this 
episode  of  the  Captivity,  again  in  the  episode  of 
Antiphilus  and  Erona.6  To  make  Philoclea  yield 
her  hand  to  Amphialus,  Cecropia  threatens  to  be- 
head Pamela ;  and  actually  has  beheaded  before 
Philoclea's  eyes  a  woman  dressed  in  Pamela's 
clothes.  This  is  Artesia  (Ar.c.,  III.  xxi,  331). 
The  original  is  evidently  the  pretended  decapita- 
tion of  Leucippe.  To  induce  Pyrocles  to  persuade 
Philoclea  to  yield,  Cecropia  has  him  informed  that 
unless  he  succeeds  in  this  persuasion,  Philoclea 
shall  die.  The  attempt  at  persuasion  proving  vain, 

•This  indebtednew  is  noticed  by  Brunhuber,  p.  ai. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  317 

Cecropia  lets  Pyrocles  see  a  bloody  basin  contain- 
ing Philoclea's  head.  In  fact  this  is  Philoclea's 
living  head  thrust  through  a  hole  in  the  bottom 
of  the  basin  (Arc.,  III.  xxii,  332v.,  335).  Erona 
being  in  love  with  the  low-born  Antiphilus,  "  Many 
wayes  her  father  sought  to  withdraw  her  from 
it ;  ...  lastly,  making  a  solemne  execution  to  be 
dene  of  another,  under  the  name  of  Antiphilus, 
whom  he  kept  in  prison"  (Arc.,  II.  xiii,  I59v.). 

To  return  to  the  denouement  of  the  main  plot, 
— Achilles  Tatius  contributes  several  important 
elements  to  Sidney's  Heliodorean  trial  scene.  At 
the  trial  in  "  Clitophon  and  Leucippe "  (A.  T., 
VII.  vi-xiii ;  V.  iii,  ix)  Clitophon,  wishing  to  die, 
accuses  himself  of  the  murder  of  Leucippe  and  is 
condemned  to  death.  She  is  all  the  while  alive, 
and  is  part  of  the  time  present  in  court !  In  the 
same  bizarre  fashion,  Gynecia,  so  overwhelmed 
with  a  sense  of  guilt  that  she  wishes  to  die,  ac- 
cuses herself  of  the  murder  of  Basilius  and  is 
condemned  to  death.  He  is  all  the  while  alive, 
and  present  in  court — in  a  trance !  And  so,  too, 
the  Princes  must  plead  to  the  charge  of  having 
murdered  this  living  man :  a  situation  foretold  by 
the  oracle  (Arc.,  II.  xxviii,  225v.).  Moreover, 
the  multiplicity  of  charges  against  Pyrocles — 
rape,  murder,  and  adultery, — makes  the  opening 
of  Thersander's  invective  against  Clitophon  (A. 
T.,  VIII.  vii)  a  model  which  Sidney  can  follow 
closely  in  the  opening  of  Philanax's  invective 
against  Pyrocles  (Arc.,  V.  464)  :  "  That  which  all 
men,  who  take  upon  them  to  accuse  another,  are 
wont  to  desire  .  .  .  to  haue  many  proofes  of 


318  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

faults  in  them  they  seeke  to  haue  condemned: 
that  is  to  me  in  this  present  action,  my  greatest 
comber,  and  annoyance.  For  the  number  is  so 
great,  and  the  qualities  so  monstrous,  of  the 
enormities  this  wretched  yong  man  hath  com- 
mitted, that  neither  I  my  selfe  can  tell  where  to 
begin  (my  thoughts  being  confused  with  the  hor- 
rible multitude  of  them)  neither  doe  I  think  your 
vertuous  eares  will  be  able  to  endure  the  report." 
The  double  rendezvous  of  Pyrocles  with  the 
king  and  the  queen,  and  the  double  qui-pro-quo 
by  which  he  leaves  them  together,  were  perhaps 
suggested  by  three  separate  passages  of  "  Amadis 
of  Gaul"7:  (a)  In  Bk.  XI,  cap.  3,  Agesilan  of 
Colchos,  who,  like  Sidney's  Pyrocles,  has  been 
reared  with  his  cousin,  falls  in  love,  like  Pyrocles 
again,  with  the  picture  of  Diana,  daughter  of 
Queen  Sidonia.  Upon  his  cousin's  advice  he  as- 
sumes female  disguise  in  order  to  enter  Sidonia's 
service;  and  he  now  calls  himself  Daraide.  (b) 
In  Bk.  XI,  cap.  83,  he  has  reached  the  land  of 
Galdap.  Here  he  is  taken  captive  by  King  Gali- 
nidis,  to  whose  Queen,  Salderne,  he  yields  his" 
sword.  He  gives  himself  out  as  a  maiden  from 
Sarmatia,  and  both  King  and  Queen  proceed  to 
fall  in  love  with  him.  As  Daraide  refuses  to  yield 
to  the  Queen,  she  has  him  thrown  into  prison. 
(c)  In  Bk.  IX,  cap.  3,  Arlande,  Princess  of 
Thrace,  having  fallen  in  love  with  Florisel  de 
Niquea,  who  loves  the  shepherdess  Silvia  and  re- 

*  As  I  have  not  read  the  later  books  of  the  "  Amadis,"  I 
follow  Herr  Brunhuber,  pp.  16-18.  Mr.  Moody,  however, 
was,  I  believe,  the  first  to  point  out  Sidney's  borrowings 
from  the  "  Amadis." 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  319 

jects  Arlande's  advances,  visits  him  at  night  in 
the  garments  of  Silvia,  and  is  welcomed. 

That  Sidney  combined  (a)  and  (b)  (rejecting, 
of  course,  the  imprisonment)  to  make  the  situa- 
tion in  which  Pyrocles  finds  himself  with  relation 
to  Basilius  and  Gynecia,  seems  likely  enough. 
But  as  a  suggestion  of  the  way  out  of  that  situa- 
tion, a  suggestion  for  his  ruse,  (c)  does  not  seem 
so  plausible  as  the  story  of  Cnemon  (^th.,  I. 
ix-xvii,  esp.  xv-xvii),  which  possesses  at  least 
this  additional  point  of  similarity  to  the  ruse  of 
Pyrocles:  a  wife  expecting  a  gallant,  is  found  by 
her  husband.  With  this,  Sidney  needed  only  to 
compound  a  theme  that  stared  him  in  the  face 
from  a  hundred  fabliaux  and  novelle:  a  husband 
expecting  his  mistress  finds  his  wife.  The  com- 
bination produces  the  ruse  of  Pyrocles.  But  the 
whole  question  is  exceedingly  doubtful,  for  the 
very  reason  that  the  novella-literature  of  the  Re- 
naissance is  so  full  of  qui-pro-quo's. 

Whatever  its  source,  the  inclusion  of  the  whole 
story  in  the  frame  of  Greek  Romance  rests  on 
surer  ground.  The  female  disguise  of  Pyrocles, 
and  the  escapade  of  Basilius  and  Gynecia,  even 
supposing  them  to  have  been  suggested  by  the 
"Amadis,"  are  both  of  them,  together  with  the 
bisarreries  of  the  trial-scene,  which  are  taken 
from  Achilles  Tatius,  predicted  by  the  oracle : 

"  Thy  elder  care  shall  from  thy  careful  face  ) 
By  princely  meane  be  stolne,  and  yet  not  lost.    }  x 
Thy  younger  shall  with  Natures  blisse  embrace  ) 
An  uncouth  loue,  which  nature  hateth  most.      }  2 


320  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Both  they  themselues  vnto  such  two  shall  wed  ~) 
Who  at  thy  beer,  as  at  a  barre,  shall  plead        V  3 
Why  thee  (a  Hiring  man)  they  had  made  dead.  ) 
In  thy  owne  seate  a  forraine  state  shall  sit.       ") 
And  ere  that  all  these  blowes  thy  head  do  hit,  >  4 
Thou  with  thy  wife  adultry  shall  commit."        ) 
(Arc.,  II.  xxviii,  22$v.} 

(i),  as  has  been  seen,  is  the  elopement  of 
Pamela  and  Musidorus,  as  in  the  ".^Lthiopica  " ; 
(2),  the  love  of  Philoclea  for  a  supposed  maiden, 
may  have  been  suggested  by  the  "Amadis";  (3) 
is  from  Achilles  Tatius;  and  (4)  possibly  sug- 
gested by  Heliodorus's  story  of  Cnemon,  though 
this  is  doubtful.  But  the  point  is  that  Sidney  has 
conceived  his  story  in  the  frame  of  Greek  Ro- 
mance— the  Romance  of  Heliodorus ;  and  that, 
whencesoever  he  derives  his  material,  he  keeps  it 
within  that  frame  by  including  it  in  the  oracle, — 
the  announcement  of  the  intentions  of  Providence 
regarding  his  personages. 

The  point  is  made  clearer  by  a  consideration  of 
the  motive  forces  of  the  main  plot, — Providence, 
Fortune,  and  the  like.  Sidney's  own  opinion  of 
oracles  would  appear  to  be  embodied  in  the  letter 
of  Philanax  to  Basilius  touching  this  one  (Arc., 
I.  iv,  I4v.) :  "  Wisdome  and  vertue  be  the  only 
destinies  appointed  to  me  to  follow,  whece  we 
ought  to  seeke  al  our  Knowledge.  .  .  .  These  kind 
of  soothsayers  [i.  e.,  oracles]  ...  be  nothing  but 
fansie,  wherein  there  must  either  be  vanitie,  or 
infalliblenes,  &  so,  either  not  to  be  respected,  or 
not  to  be  preuented."  That  is,  the  prediction  is 
either  false,  and  therefore  to  be  disregarded,  or 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  321 

true,  and  therefore  inevitable:  in  either  case, 
oracles  are  to  be  eschewed.  In  fact,  the  fulfilment 
of  the  oracle  is,  as  it  were,  a  punishment  in- 
flicted upon  Basilius  for  consulting  an  oracle  at 
all.  For  the  prediction  is  fulfilled  by  the  very 
course  that  he  takes  to  prevent  its  fulfilment. 
Had  he  remained  at  court,  and  allowed  princely 
suitors  access  to  his  daughters,  the  one  would 
not  have  needed  to  be  "  by  princely  meane  .  .  . 
stolne";  the  other  would  not  have  embraced  an 
apparently  unnatural  love,  for  Pyrocles  would 
not  have  needed  to  disguise  himself  as  a  woman 
in  order  to  court  her;  and  for  the  same  reason 
there  would  have  been  no  Zelmane  for  Basilius 
to  fall  in  love  with,  and  hence  no  rendezvous,  no 
qui-pro-quo,  no  adultery,  no  potion,  no  apparent 
death  of  the  King,  and  no  trial  of  the  princes  at 
his  bier.  As  Kalander  says  (I.  iv,  16)  in  com- 
menting upon  the  King's  retirement :  "  The  cause 
of  all  hath  beene  the  vanitie  which  possesseth 
many,  who  .  .  .  are  desirous  to  know  the  cer- 
taintie  of  things  to  come."  The  same  sentiments 
are  repeated  in  comment  upon  the  full  text  of  the 
oracle  (II.  xxviii,  22^-226}.  Providence  will 
work  out  its  plans  either  way :  if  not  searched  into 
or  resisted,  then  perhaps  smoothly;  if  searched 
into  and  resisted, — as  here, — then  ironically  and 
with  pain  to  men. 

The  arrangement  by  which  the  Princes  are 
brought  to  their  destined  wives  is  part  of  this 
providential  plan.  At  their  birth  it  is  predicted 
(II.  vi,  I28v.-i29)  that  they  will  conquer  certain 
Asiatic  Kingdoms.  The  Kings  of  these  lands 
22 


322  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

therefore  invade  Macedonia;  hence  Pyrocles  is 
sent  to  be  reared  with  his  cousin  in  Thessaly; 
hence,  too,  Evarchus  makes  war  in  the  East.  It 
is  on  their  way  to  join  him  at  Byzantium  that  the 
Princes  are  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of  Asia; 
their  tour  of  the  East  follows,8  involving  inci- 
dentally the  conquests  predicted  for  them ;  and  it 
is  on  their  way  back  to  Greece  that  they  are  ship- 
wrecked on  the  coast  of  Laconia,  whence  Pyro- 
cles, after  his  adventures  with  pirates  and  Helots, 
is  conducted  to  Kalander's  house,  and,  falling  in 
love  with  the  portrait  of  Philoclea,  resolves  to  go 
to  her  lodge  in  the  Arcadian  woods.  This  is 
hardly  the  nearest  way  from  Thessaly  to  Arcadia ; 
but  'twill  serve;  and  the  chain  is  complete,  with 
Fortune  intervening  only  here  and  there,  to  con- 
duct such  minor  matters  as  shipwrecks  and  pira- 
cies— her  immemorial  prerogative.  After  the 
Princes  have  joined  the  royal  party  in  the  forest, 
the  control  of  Providence  is  further  .manifested 
in  Gynecia's  dream  (it.  xxv,  2I2V.-2I3),  and  in 
the  second  oracle  to  Basilius  (III.  xxvii,  354v.) 
which  bids  him  "  to  denie  his  daughters  to  Anax- 
ius  and  his  brothers,  for  that  they  were  reserued 
for  such  as  were  better  beloved  of  the  gods." 

The  providential  plot  thickens,  as  it  were,  to- 
ward the  close.  When  the  remnants  of  the  rebel 
band,  hiding  in  the  forest,  happen  upon  the  elop- 
ing Musidorus  and  Pamela  (IV.  426),  the  en- 

*  In  the  course  of  this  tour,  the  Princes,  beset  by  Plex- 
irtus  with  overwhelming  numbers  and  about  to  be  over- 
come, are  saved  by  the  opportune  arrival  of  the  King  of 
Pontus  (II.  x,  145)  whom  a  dream  has  sent  to  their  assist- 
ance. Evidently,  supernatural  powers  are  taking  care  of 
them. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  323 

counter  is  by  no  means  the  work  of  chance. 
"They  were  guided  by  the  euerlasting  Justice, 
vsing  themselues  to  be  punishers  of  their  faults, 
and  making  their  owne  actions  the  beginning  of 
their  chastizements  .  .  ."  Evarchus  having  ar- 
rived in  Arcadia,  Philanax  says  (V.  445) : 
"  Surely,  surely  the  heavenly  powers  have  in  so 
full  a  time  bestowed  him  on  vs,  to  vnite  our 
.diuisions."  At  the  trial  (V.  458),  "So  extraor- 
dinary a  course  had  the  order  of  the  heauens  pro- 
duced at  this  time,  that  both  nephew  and  son, 
were  not  only  prisoners,  but  unknown  to  their 
vncle  and  father,  who  for  many  years  had  not 
seen  them.  And  Pyrocles  was  to  plead  for  his 
life  before  that  throne,  in  which  throne  lately 
before  he  had  saued  the  Kings  life."  Accord- 
ingly, both  the  Princes  were  resolved  (V.  464) 
"  that  .  .  .  they  would  as  much  as  they  could, 
couer  the  shame  of  their  royall  parentage  .  .  . 
wherein  the  chiefe  man  they  considered  was 
Evarchus:  whom  the  strange  and  secret  working 
of  iustice  had  brought  to  be  the  iudge  over  them. 
In  such  a  shadow,  or  rather  pit  of  darkenesse,  the 
wormish  mankind  lives,  that  neither  they  know 
how  to  foresee  nor  what  to  feare:  and  are  like 
tenisbals,  tossed  by  the  racket  of  the  higher 
powers."  And  at  the  last  stage  of  the  denoue- 
ment, when  Basilius  wakes  from  his  long  sleep 
(V.  482),  Sidney  makes  a  final  reassertion  of  the 
providential  control  of  his  plot,  and  connects  that 
control  with  the  fulfilment  of  the  oracle:  "At 
length  remembring  the  Oracle,  which  now  in- 
deed was  accomplished,  [and]  considering  all  had 
falne  out  by  the  highest  providence." 


324  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

The  scope  thus  left  to  the  agency  of  chance  is 
narrow.  Indeed,  Sidney  is  refreshingly  free  from 
the  Renaissance  slavery  to  the  notion  and  the 
word  Fortune.  His  attitude  is  rather  that  of  a 
strong  intellect  that  will  condescend  to  the  habits 
of  speech  prevalent  in  his  time.  Fortune,  there- 
fore, as  a  vera  causa  is  rare  in  the  "  Arcadia," 
though  she  appears  frequently  as  a  more  or  less 
faded  metaphor.  In  the  former  capacity  she  in- 
troduces Parthenia  at  the  house  of  Kalander  (I. 
vii,  3 iv.)  :  "  Fortune  (that  belike  was  bid  to  that 
banket,  and  ment  then  to  play  the  good  fellow) 
brought  a  pleasant  aduenture  among  the " ;  she 
permits  the  defeat  of  a  Laconian  Knight  who 
championed  the  beauty  of  Andromana  against 
Phalantus  (I.  xvi,  69):  "therein  Fortune  had 
borrowed  witte,  for  indeede  she  [Andromana] 
was  not  coparable  to  Artesia  " ;  and  she  is  blamed 
by  Phalantus  for  his  own  defeat  (I.  xvii,  75 v.- 
76)  :  "  He  excusing  himself,  and  turning  over  the 
fault  to  Fortune,  Then  let  that  be  your  ill  For- 
tune too  (said  she  [Artesia])  that  you  haue  lost 
me."  Again,  in  the  first  fight  between  Pyrocles 
and  Anaxius  (II.  xix,  186),  both  spears  having 
been  broken,  Anaxius's  "  horse  happened  to  come 
vpon  the  point  of  the  broken  speare,  which  fallen 
to  the  ground  chaunced  to  stand  upward ;  so  as 
it  lighting  upon  his  hart,  the  horse  died.9  He 
[A]  driuen  to  dismount,  threatened,  if  I  [P]  did 
not  the  like,  to  doo  as  much  for  my  horse,  as  For- 
tune had  done  for  his.  But  whether  for  that,  or 
because  /  would  not  be  beholding  to  Fortune  for 

0  Cf.  the  death  of  the  witch  of  Bessa.    JEth.,  VI.  xv. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  325 

any  part  of  the  victorie,  I  descended."  Finally, 
she  decides  who  shall  tell  a  story :  "  Pamela  pleas- 
antly persisting  to  haue  fortune  their  iudge,  they 
set  hands  [to  'draw  cuts']  .  .  .  and  blind  For- 
tune .  .  .  gave  [Mopsa]  the  preheminence "  (II. 
xiv,  165).  It  is  notable  that  all  these  cases  ex- 
cept the  last  occur  in  episodes,  not  in  the  main 
plot;  while  the  last  is  an  incident  of  the  most 
trivial  kind.  Sidney  puts  Fortune  in  her  place, 
and  keeps  her  there.10  He  is  not  even  sure  that 
she  exists.  Among  the  matters  pondered  by  the 
student  (III.  ix,  273v.)  are 

"The  euer-turning  spheares,  the  neuer-moving 

ground ; 
What  essence  dest'nie  hath;  if  fortune  be  or  no." 

The  same  intellectual  point  of  view  is  exhibited 
in  Pamela's  refutation  of  Cecropia's  atheistic 
argument  that  the  world  was  created  by  chance 
(III.  x,  28iv.-282) :  "Perfect  order,  perfect 
beautie,  perfect  constancie, — if  these  be  the  chil- 
dren of  Chaunce,  or  Fortune  be  the  efficient  of 
these,  let  Wisedome  be  counted  the  roote  of 
wickednesse." 

But,  as  has  been  said,  Sidney  uses  the  language 
like  other  people.  He  speaks  of  Fortune  and  Na- 
ture (I.  xvi,  70;  II.  v,  1 24v. ;  II.  xvii,  183;  II. 
236v. ;  IV.  437),  Fortune  and  Love  (II.  iv,  119), 
and  their  gifts,  as  well  as  of  the  "mazes  of  for- 
tune "  (I.  ix,  36),  the  "  labyrinth  of  her  fortune  " 

18  On  two  additional  functions  which  he  allows  her,  that 
of  creating  a  bizarre  situation,  and  that  of  conducting  a 
"  tragedy,"  see  post,  pp.  355-357. 


326  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

(III.  350),  the  "course  of  my  ill  happe"  (III. 
349),  and  of  parting  "from  the  greatest  for- 
tunes" (II.  vii,  I32v.),  suffering  "eyther  a  like 
or  a  worse  fortune"  (I.  v,  19),  and  trying  in 
battle  "each  others  fortune"  (I.  vi,  27),  in  the 
conventional  fashion  of  his  time.  And  in  the 
same  conventional  fashion  he  personifies  Fortune 
to  point  a  conceit  (II.  v,  I2ov.)  which  explains 
why  the  excellent  Dorus  is  poor :  "  Belike  For- 
tune was  afraide  to  lay  her  treasures,  where  they 
should  be  stained  with  so  many  perfections." 

In  her  relations  to  the  forces  of  personality, 
Fortune  becomes  at  once  more  real  and  more 
weak.  Here  Sidney  departs  from  the  conception 
of  Fortune  underlying  the  Greek  Romances,  and 
coincides  with  the  Renaissance  in  its  antithesis 
of  Virtu  and  Fortuna.  He  uses  the  word  "  virtue  " 
in  its  Italian  sense  of  virtu.  Cecropia  explains 
that  she  and  her  husband  desired  to  succeed  Ba- 
silius  speedily  on  the  Arcadian  throne  (III.  ii, 
251):  "to  that  passe  had  my  husbands  vertue 
(by  my  good  helpe)  within  short  time  brought 
it  with  a  plot  we  laide,  as  we  should  not  have 
needed  to  have  waited  the  tedious  worke  of  a 
naturall  end  of  Basilius."  This  is  of  course  the 
extreme  Machiavellian  meaning;  elsewhere  the 
word  has  the  classic  Roman  meaning  of  "  valor." 
Amphialus  and  the  Black  Knight  (III.  xviii,  317) 
fought  "a  long  space  .  .  .,  while  neither  vertue 
nor  fortune  seemed  partiall  of  either  side."  Some- 
times the  antithesis  actually  takes  the  form  of 
Fortune  versus  "Valor"  (III.  viii,  272)  or  "cour- 
age" (III.  xviii,  3i7v. ;  II.  Hi,  IOQV.)  ;  sometimes 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  327 

that  of  Fortune  versus  "ones  owne  choice"  (II. 
ix,  141  v.) ;  sometimes  that  of  Fortune  and  "de- 
serving" or  "desert"  (II.  i,  99;  II,  x,  I44V. ;  V. 
459) ;  sometimes  that  of  Fortune  and  wisdom 
(II.  xx,  191  v. ;  IV.  429).  In  general,  virtue  sums 
up  the  forces  of  personality,  moral  or  otherwise, 
fortune  those  of  environment  or  circumstance. 
Philanax  praises  not  a  fugitive  and  cloistered 
virtue.  "  O  no,"  he  protests,  against  the  King's 
plan  to  keep  his  daughters  from  temptation  (I. 
iv,  I5v.)  :  "  O  no ;  he  cannot  be  good,  that  knowes 
not  why  he  is  good,  but  stands  so  farre  good,  as 
his  fortune  may  keepe  him  vnassaied."  Only  a 
coward  will  depend  upon  chance,  as  Clinias  does 
(III.  vii,  266) ;  but  even  a  brave  man  will  adapt 
himself  to  it, — nay  seize  it  and  wring  from  it  suc- 
cess. "Maister  Dorus  (saide  the  faire  Pamela) 
me  thinks  you  blame  your  fortune  very  wrong- 
fully, since  the  fault  is  not  in  Fortune,  but  in  you 
that  cannot  frame  yourself  to  your  fortune"  (II. 
ii,  106).  And  Pyrocles,  biding  his  time  of  ven- 
geance for  the  indignities  heaped  upon  him  and 
the  Princesses  during  their  captivity,  resolves 
(III.  xxviii,  356v.)  "to  attend  the  uttermost  oc- 
casion, which  cue  then  brought  his  hairie  fore- 
head11 vnto  [him]."  Until  that  time  came,  how- 
ever, even  he  was  helpless, — his  valor  left  un- 
armed, and  (III.  xx,  327v.)  "all  troden  vnder 
foot  by  the  wheele  of  senselesse  Fortune."  These 
passages  illustrate,  without  beginning  to  exhaust, 
Sidney's  employment  of  the  antithesis  "  Virtue 
versus  Fortune."12  They  may  be  summed  up, 

u  "  Fronte  capillata,  post  cst  Occasio  calva." 
"Other  passages:  II.  ii,  I07V. ;  II.  x,  144;  II.  xiii,  160; 
III.  xvi,  310;  III.  348;  III.  354;  IV.  428. 


328  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

together  with  Sidney's  general  attitude  on  the 
subject  of  Fortune  as  under  the  control  of  Provi- 
dence, in  the  sentiment  of  Pyrocles  upon  parting 
with  his  friend  (III.  349) :  "Farewell  my  Musi- 
dorus,  the  gods  make  fortune  to  waite  on  thy 
vertues."  And  so  they  do. 

Such  is  the  plot  of  the  "Arcadia."  Its  mate- 
rial,— motif,  situation,  incident,  episode — comes 
chiefly  from  the  "  Amadis  "  and  the  Greek  Ro- 
mances; the  material  it  gets  from  the  former 
being  fitted  into  the  frame  of  the  latter.  For  its 
actuating  force  is  the  will  of  the  gods,  working 
itself  out  partly  through  the  agency  of  Fortune, 
partly  through  the  agency  of  human  personality 
— "  Virtue."  And  this  dominant  force  shapes  the 
frame  of  the  story  into  the  monumental  form 
which  Heliodorus  applied  to  prose  romance.13 
Some  considerations  upon  the  narrative  technique 
and  structure  of  this  plot,  as  distinguished  from 
its  material  and  its  actuating  forces,  are  reserved 
for  a  later  portion  of  this  chapter  (post,  p.  343  ff . ) . 

The  minor  part  assigned  to  Fortune  in  the 
"  Arcadia  "  leaves  rather  free  play  to  human  per- 
sonality, and,  if  Sidney  had  been  not  a  romancer 
but  a  novelist,  might  have  resulted  in  some  nota- 
ble studies  of  character.  As  it  is,  his  interest  lies 
chiefly  in  plot  and  in  setting, — the  true  interests 

13  Brunhuber,  p.  23 :  "  Die  Hauptgrundlage  des  englischen 
Romans  [5.  e.,  Sidney's  '  Arcadia ']  bildet  die  Amadis- 
dichtung,  sowie  der  griechische  Liebesroman.  In  ihnen 
fand  Sidney  sein  Muster  und  Vorbild ;  alle  anderen  Ein- 
fliisse  und  Einwirkungen  erweisen  sich  als  von  entschieden 
untergeordneter  Bedeutung."  P.  20 :  "...  all  das  weist 
direkt  oder  indirekt  auf  Heliodor  bin,  wie  uberhaupt  der 
Geist  Heliodors  uber  der  Arcadi*  schwebt." 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  329 

of  romance — and,  next,  in  structure  and  style; 
so  that  his  personages,  with  the  exception  of 
Gynecia,  remain  types.  But  they  are  types  well 
differentiated.  Philoclea  and  Pamela  are  quite 
distinct  from  each  other,  and  from  Gynecia; 
Pyrocles  is  distinct  from  Musidorus.  Each  shows 
the  rudiments  of  characterization.  The  younger 
princess  is  soft  and  gentle  of  manner  and  tem- 
perament and  yielding  in  love,  though  virtuous; 
the  elder,  lofty  and  majestic  in  temper,  dignified 
in  manner,  and  of  a  virtue  whose  high  principles 
tend  to  express  themselves  not  only  in  action  but 
in  moralizing.  There  is  excellent  "  psychology  " 
in  the  account  of  Philoclea's  growing  affection 
for  Zelmane :  her  soliloquy  is  sweet,  and  both 
subtle  and  true  (II.  iv,  ii5-H9v.).  Of  the  two 
Princes,  Pyrocles  is  of  the  slender,  delicate,  half- 
feminine,  but  wholly  courageous,  high-strung,  and 
"  thoroughbred  "  type ;  Musidorus  more  mature, 
more  masculine,  more  used  to  the  world's  com- 
promises, and  himself  an  adept  in  dissimulation 
for  good  ends.  (I.  xviii,  79~8ov. :  a  most  elabo- 
rate deception  of  his,  invented  to  account  for  his 
presence  in  Arcadia ;  cf.  too  his  pretended  court- 
ship of  Mopsa.) 

The  only  characters  directly  traceable  to  Greek 
Romance  are  the  two  amorous  women:  Gynecia 
an  imitation  of  Melitta;  Andromana  an  imitation 
of  Arsace  and  Demaeneta  combined  (cf.  ante,  pp. 
313-314).  Other  personages  are  merely  there 
to  play  their  part  in  the  Greek  Romance  plot,  and 
in  so  far  are  types  from  Greek  Romance:  the 
eloping  hero  and  the  eloping  heroine ;  the  King  as 


33°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

judge  condemning  his  own  child.  In  these  cases 
Sidney  spares  his  reader  the  tedious  and  super- 
ficial "  psychology  "  of  Greek  Romance ;  when  he 
has  not  penetrated  to  the  springs  of  human  con- 
duct, he  does  not  pretend  that  he  has.  Seldom 
interested  in  character,  he  will  not  feign  an  in- 
terest he  does  not  possess. 

Among  his  remaining  personages — (there  are 
in  all  eighty-eight  named  personages14  in  the 
"Arcadia") — the  majority  of  such  as  are  not 
names  and  nothing  more  (like  the  Knights  named 
only  when  they  are  killed)  are  types  set  forth 
with  a  half-moralistic  purpose  hinted  by  their 
Greek  names :  Clinias  "  a  verball  craftie  coward," 
Philanax  a  model  counsellor,  Evarchus  a  model 
King,  Calodoulos  a  model  servant,  Anaxius  a 
pattern  of  pride,  Antiphilus  a  dastard  lover, 
Chremes  a  miser,  etc.  Of  unusual  interest  in 
conception  though  only  rudimentary  in  execu- 
tion, is  the  character  of  Amphialus,  doomed  to 
bring  misery  and  death  upon  all  he  loves.  But 
Sidney's  interest  in  character,  and  power  to  de- 
pict it,  stop  short  of  adequacy,  here  as  elsewhere. 

His  humor,  too,  is  rather  the  humor  of  situa- 
tion and  of  words  than  that  of  character.  Pyro- 
cles  discovering  that  Musidorus  is  in  love,  rallies 
him  (I.  xviii,  77v.)  by  repeating  some  of  the 
moralizing  to  which  his  friend  previously  treated 
him  upon  the  like  occasion ;  and  when  Musidorus 
passionately  recants  this  heresy,  and  shows  un- 
mistakable symptoms  of  lovesickness,  Pyrocles 

14  Herr  Brunhuber  (p.  21)  notes  Sidney's  adoption  of  the 
names  Clitophon,  Leucippe,  and  Clinias,  from  Achilles 
Tatius. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  331 

pretends  to  think  that  all  this  is  done  to  mock  at 
him — until  he  induces  Musidorus  to  assure  him 
gravely  that  he  really  is  in  love!  This  scene  is 
the  high-water  mark  of  Sidney's  humor.  One 
wonders  why  some  dramatist  has  not  "  conveyed  " 
it  into  a  comedy.  Sidney's  other  humorous  pas- 
sages are  less  fine.  Dametas  upon  the  attack  of 
the  she-bear  (I.  xix,  84)  bravely  sticks  his  head 
in  a  bush.  Dametas  and  Clinias  are  egged  on  to 
fight  each  other  in  an  island ;  and  this  "  Combat 
of  Cowards"  (III.  xiii,  296v.~3Oi)  affords  comic 
relief  after  the  account  of  Argalus's  death :  the 
fun  lies  in  Dametas's  abusive  challenge,  his  im- 
prese  and  motto,  his  awkwardness  in  managing 
his  horse  and  weapons,  and  in  his  continual  fear : 
"  he  cast  his  eye  about,  to  see  which  way  he  might 
runne  away,  cursing  all  Hands  in  being  euill  scit- 
uated."  But  in  all  this  there  is  physical  absurdity 
that  almost  amounts  to  horseplay.  And  on  the 
other  hand,  in  Sidney's  would-be  funny  accounts 
of  the  slaughter  wrought  by  his  heroes  upon  the 
Arcadian  rebels,  there  is  an  ugly  vein  of  cruelty 
that  spoils  the  verbal  quips  (II.  xxv,  215-216)  : 
Pyrocles  cuts  off  the  nose  of  a  tailor,  who  stoops 
to  pick  it  up.  "  But  as  his  hand  was  on  the 
grounde  to  bring  his  nose  to  his  head,  [Pyrocles] 
with  a  blow  sent  his  head  to  his  nose."  This  in- 
human contempt  for  the  rabble — one  of  the  seamy 
sides  of  the  chivalry  even  of  a  Sidney — is  hardly 
to  our  modern  taste.  There  is  rather  gross  horse- 
play again  in  the  situation  where  Dametas  return- 
ing from  his  futile  hunt  for  buried  treasure  finds 
Mopsa  up  a  tree,  holds  her  when  she  comes  turn- 


332  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

bling  down,  talks  with  her  at  cross-purposes,  and 
gets  a  beating  from  Miso  for  his  pains  (IV. 
405-7).  An  interesting  passage  of  humor  in  the 
peasant  vein  (II.  xiv,  i62v.-i66)  intervenes  be- 
tween the  chivalrous,  courtly,  tragic  episode  of 
Erona  and  Antiphilus,  related  by  Philoclea,  and 
the  similar  episode  of  Plangus  and  Andromana, 
related  by  Pamela.  Miso  interrupts  the  Princesses 
to  give  her  view  of  love,  as  she  heard  it  from  an 
old  woman ;  an  unchivalrous,  clerkly,  peasant  view 
of  love  in  contrast  with  the  views  suggested  by 
the  Princesses.  Then  Mopsa  proceeds  to  tell  an 
old  wives'  tale — in  fact  .a  fairy-tale.  The  fun 
comes  from  the  contrasting  views  of  love,  from 
Miso's  conceit  of  her  former  beauty,  from  her 
prolixity,15  from  Mopsa's  homely  peasant  phrases, 
and  from  the  formulae,  repetition,  and  allitera- 
tion of  her  mediaeval  narrative.16  At  last  Philo- 

15 "  Which  when  this  good  old  woma  perceiued  (O  the 
good  wold  woman,  well  may  the  bones  rest  of  the  good 
wold  woma)  she  cald  me  into  her  house.  I  remember  full 
well  it  stood  in  the  lane  as  you  go  to  the  Barbers  shop,  all 
the  towne  knew  her,  there  was  a  great  losse  of  her :  she 
called  me  to  her,  and  taking  first  a  soppe  of  wine  to  com- 
fort her  hart  (it  was  of  the  same  wine  that  comes  out  of 
Candia,  which  we  pay  so  deere  for  now  a  daies  and  in  that 
good  worlde  was  very  good  cheape)  she  cald  me  to  her; 
Minion  said  she,"  etc.,  etc.  Is  Miso  an  ancestress  of  Dame 
Quickly? 

19 "  So  one  day,  as  his  daughter  was  sitting  in  her  win- 
dow, playing  vpon  a  harpe,  as  sweete  as  any  Rose,  and 
combing  her  head  with  a  combe  all  of  precious  stones, 
there  came  in  a  knight  into  the  court,  vpci  a  goodly  horse, 
one  haire  of  gold,  and  the  other  of  siluer.  .  .  .  And  so  in 
May,  when  all  true  hartes  reioyce,  they  stale  out  of  the 
Castel.  .  .  .  But  hauing  laien  so  (wet  by  the  raine,  and 
burnt  by  the  Sun)  fiue  dayes,  and  fiue  nights,  she  gat  up 
and  went  ouer  many  a  high  hil,  and  many  a  deepe  riuer. 
.  .  .  And  so  she  went,  &  she  went,  &  neuer  rested  the 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  333 

clea  "  stints  "  Mopsa  of  her  tale  much  as  the  Host 
stints  Chaucer  of  his"  drasty"  tale  of  Sir  Thopas, 
and  for  much  the  same  reasons.  Here  again  the 
humor  lies  somewhat  deep — in  the  incongruity 
between  the  courtly  and  the  peasant  views  of 
love,  and  in  the  suggested  incongruity  between 
the  Middle  Ages  and  the  Renaissance. 

The  sources  of  Sidney's  humor  are  thus  quite 
foreign  to  Greek  Romance.  Even  that  humoristic 
motif  which  is  to  be  expected  in  any  Elizabethan 
writer — misogyny, — and  for  which  Sidney  might 
have  taken  something  from  Achilles  Tatius — ap- 
pears in  the  "Arcadia"  only  to  be  condemned. 
Musidorus  remonstrates  with  Pyrocles  against 
falling  in  love  (I.  xii,  5iv.  ff.),  but  the  tables  are 
turned  upon  him  (I.  xviii,  77v.).  Geron  and 
Histor  hold  an  amoeboeic  pastoral  debat  de  con- 
jitge  ducenda  (I.  93V.-95),  the  former  out  of  his 
age  and  experience  arguing  pro,  the  latter  out  of 
his  disappointment  in  love  arguing  contra;  and 
though  the  contest  is  left  undecided,  the  old  shep- 
herd has  the  best  of  it.  A  certain  Knight  (III. 
xii,  29O-29OV.)  maintains  "blasphemies  against 
womankinde;  that  namely  that  sex  was  the  ouer- 
sight  of  Nature,  the  disgrace  of  reasonablenes, 
the  obstinate  cowards,  the  slaue-borne  tyrants, 
the  shops  of  vanities,  the  guilded  wethercocks;  in 
whom  conscience  is  but  peeuishnes,  chastitie  way- 
wardnes,  &  gratefulnes  a  miracle."  But  Amphia- 
lus  vanquishes  him.  Sir  Philip's  chivalry  renders 

evening,  where  she  wet  in  the  morning.  .  .  .  With  Dayly 
Diligence  and  Grisly  Grones,  he  wan  her  affection.  .  .  . 
And  so  she  went  ...  til  she  came  to  a  second  Aunt,  and 
she  gaue  her  another  Nut." 


334  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

impossible  his  adoption  of  the  misogyny  of 
Achilles  Tatius. 

Characterization  in  the  "Arcadia"  is  thus  but 
slightly  indebted,  and  humor  in  the  "Arcadia" 
not  indebted  at  all,  to  the  Greek  Romances. 
Where  Sidney  himself  is  somewhat  meagre,  he 
draws  least  from  this  source. 

It  is  otherwise  with  his  employment  of  setting, 
or  descriptive  background.  The  moment  the 
Princes  are  received  by  Kalander,  Sidney  indulges 
in  a  burst  of  pictorial  writing — an  eie<j>pa<Ti<;  de- 
scribing Kalander's  garden,  pavilion,  and  paint- 
ings (I.  iii,  QV.-IO).  The  garden  is  patterned 
after  Clitophon's  (A.  T.,  I.  xv),  with  a  pond  in 
the  middle  which,  like  Clitophon's,  doubles  by 
reflection  the  beauties  of  flowers  and  trees.  As 
if  to  acknowledge  definitely  his  indebtedness, 
Sidney  parallels  Achilles  Tatius's  quibble  about 
the  trunk  and  the  ivy  ("The  trunk  was  a  support 
to  the  ivy,  the  ivy  a  wreath  to  the  trunk  ")  with 
a  similar  quibble  about  the  "beddes  of  flowers, 
which  being  under  the  trees,  the  trees  were  to 
them  a  Pavilion,  and  they  to  the  trees  a  mosaical 
floore."  After  describing  an  elaborate  foun- 
tain,17 he  proceeds  to  the  garden-house  and  its 
paintings :  "  There  was  Diana  when  Actaeon  sawe 
her  bathing,  in  whose  cheekes  the  painter  had  set 
such  a  colour,  as  was  mixt  betweene  shame  & 

1T  This  consists  of  a  marble  statue  of  Venus  with  the 
breasts  running.  It  resembles  the  fountains  of  Venus  and 
the  Graces,  in  the  "  Hypnerotomachia  Poliphili "  (Fac- 
similes: Plates  23,  149,  150,  151)  rather  more  than  it  re- 
sembles the  carving  on  the  vase  in  Sannazaro's  "  Arcadia," 
to  which  Herr  Brunhuber  (p.'u)  is  inclined  to  attribute  it. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  335 

disdaine.  ...  In  another  table  was  Atalanta; 
the  posture  of  whose  limmes  was  so  liuelie  ex- 
pressed, that  .  .  .  one  would  have  sworne  the 
very  picture  had  runne."  Here  we  recognize 
Achilles  Tatius's  stock  devices  of  "  conflicting 
emotions"  and  of  speaking  of  a  picture  as  if  it 
were  alive  (A.  T.,  III.  vii,  viii,  V.  iii). 

The  description  of  Basilius's  lodge  and  of  the 
"devices"  at  the  banquet  (Arc.,  I.  xiii,  62;  xiv, 
62v.)  recalls  the  Greek  Romances  only  in  its 
elaborateness :  "  The  table  was  set  neere  to  an 
excellent  water-worke ;  for  by  the  casting  of  the 
water  in  most  cunning  maner,  it  made  (with  the 
shining  of  the  Sunne  vpon  it)  a  perfect  rainbow 
.  .  .  There  were  birds  also  made  so  finely,  that 
they  did  not  only  deceiue  the  sight  with  their 
figure,  but  the  hearing  with  their  songs,  which 
the  watrie  instruments  did  make  their  gorge 
deliuer."18  Strangely  enough,  too,  the  storm 
which  brought  about  the  Princes'  first  shipwreck 
(Arc.,  II.  vii,  I3iv.-I32v.),  does  not  owe  any- 
thing specific  to  either  Heliodorus  or  Achilles 
Tatius ;  nor  does  the  exquisite  description  of  the 
river  Ladon  (III.  xi,  I48v.-i49) — a  lovely  bit 
of  landscape  apparently  Sidney's  own.  And 
strangest  of  all,  Sidney  neither  here  nor  else- 
where takes  anything  from  Longus. 

The  descriptions  of  which  he  is  most  fond,  the 
descriptions  of  symbolic  armor  and  imprese,  re- 
call Achilles  Tatius's  emblems,  but  probably  are 
wholly  due  to  the  chivalry  of  Sidney's  own  time, 

18  A  similar  device  is  described  by  Nash's  "  Unfortunate 
Traveller "  (ed.  McKerrow,  II.  283-4)  \vho  saw  it  in  a 
garden  at  Rome. 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

which  in  its  decay  was  grown  symbolic  and 
spectacular.  Thus  Amphialus  preparing  to  court 
his  prisoner  Philoclea  (III.  iii,  253),  selected 
his  apparel  with  much  care,  particularly  as  to  its 
color;  "lest  if  gay,  he  might  seeme  to  glorie  in 
his  iniury,  and  her  wrong;  if  mourning,  it  might 
strike  some  euill  presage  vnto  her  of  her  fortune." 
He  chose  at  length  "black  veluet,  richly  em- 
brodered  with  great  pearle,  &  precious  stones, 
but  they  set  so  among  certaine  tuffes  of  cypres, 
that  the  cypres  was  like  blacke  clowds,  through 
which  the  Starrs  might  yeeld  a  darke  luster."  His 
collar  was  of  alternate  pieces,  "  the  one  ...  of 
Diamonds  and  pearle,  set  with  a  white  enamell, 
so  as  ...  it  seemed  like  shining  ice,  and  the 
other  ...  of  Rubies,  and  Opalles,  had  a  fierie 
glistring,  which  he  thought  pictured  the  two  pas- 
sions of  Feare  and  Desire,  wherein  he  was  en- 
chayned."  One  other  of  these  numerous  passages 
is  quoted  because  of  its  autobiographical  interest. 
At  the  Iberian  jousts  (II.  xxi,  196)  "the  Iberian 
Knight  PHILISIDES  "  [=  Sir  PHILIP  Sroney  him- 
self] appeared  in  shepherdish  attire,  with  a  shep- 
herd's boy  as  a  page,  and  his  lance-bearers  dressed 
as  shepherds — all  very  richly.  "  His  Impresa  was 
a  sheepe  marked  with  pitch,  with  this  word 
Spotted  to  be  knowne.  And  .  .  .  before  the  Ladies 
departed  from  the  windowes,  among  them  there 
was  one  (they  say)  that  was  the  Star  [=  STELLA], 
whereby  his  course  was  only  directed."19 

18  Other  descriptions  of  symbolic  attire,  armor,  and  im- 
prest, are  found  at  I.  xiii,  6ov. ;  I.  xvi,  68v. ;  I.  xvii,  7iv. ; 

II.  xxi,  197;  III.  xi,  287V.;  III.  xii,  2Q2V. ;  III.  xiii,  297V. ; 

III.  xvi,  3ogy..;  IJI.  xyiti,  3is-3isv.,  32ov. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  337 

A  pure  emblem,  not  connected  with  clothing 
or  armor,  is  used  by  Dorus  in  his  courtship  of 
Pamela  (II.  Hi,  112)  :  "  I  tooke  a  lewell,  made  in 
the  figure  of  a  crab-fish,  which,  because  it  lookes 
one  way  and  goes  another,  I  thought  it  did  fitly 
patterne  out  my  looking  to  Mopsa,  but  bending 
to  Pamela:  The  word  about  it  was,  By  force,  not 
choice;  and  still  kneeling,  besought  the  Princesse 
that  she  would  vouchsafe  to  give  it  Mopsa." 

Miso's  description  of  the  old  woman's  concept 
of  Love  is  also  purely  emblematic  (II.  xiv,  i63v.- 
164)  :  "With  that  she  broght  me  into  a  corner, 
where  ther  was  painted  a  foule  fied  I  trow:  for 
he  had  a  paire  of  homes  like  a  Bull,  his  feete 
clouen,  as  many  eyes  vpon  his  bodie,  as  my  gray- 
mare  hath  dappels,  &  for  all  the  world  so  placed. 
This  moster  sat  like  a  hagman  vpo  a  paire  of 
gallowes,  in  his  right  hand  he  was  painted  holding 
a  crowne  of  Laurell,  in  his  left  hand  a  purse 
or  mony,  &  out  of  his  mouth  honge  a  lace  of 
two  faire  pictures,  of  a  ma  &  a  woma,  &  such  a 
countenance  he  shewed,  as  if  he  would  perswade 
folks  by  those  aluremets  to  come  thither  &  be 
hanged."  Of  course,  this  kind  of  thing  is  wholly 
mediaeval,  not  even  touched  by  the  Renaissance. 

There  are  passages,  however,  which,  though 
emblematically  descriptive,  yet  suggest  not  only 
the  Renaissance  but  Heliodorus  too.  The  trionfo 
of  Phalantus,  for  example  (I.  xvi,  68v.~7i), 
headed  by  his  lady  Artesia  in  a  chariot  "  inriched 
with  pur[p]le  &  pearle,  .  .  .  drawne  by  foure 
winged  horses  with  artificiall  flaming  mouths, 
and  fiery  winges,  as  if  she  had  newly  borrowed 

23 


338  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

them  of  Phoebus,"  is  of  course  a  piece  of 
Renaissance  pageantry,  but  is  reminiscent  of  the 
procession  at  Delphi  (Aeth.,  Ill,  iii,  iv;  U  81-2). 
Pyrocles  disguised  as  an  Amazon  (Arc.,  I.  xii, 
50),  though  his  attire  be  symbolic,  yet  reminds 
one  of  Theagenes  in  that  procession.  Pyrocles's 
mantle  is  "  closed  together  with  a  very  riche 
iewell :  the  devise  whereof  .  .  .  was  this :  a 
Hercules  made  in  little  fourme,  but  a  distaffe  set 
within  his  hand'  as  he  once  was  by  Omphales 
commaundement,  with  a  worde  in  Greeke,  .  .  . 
Never  more  valiant " :  that  is,  never  more  valiant 
than  when  disguised  as  a  woman  in  order  to  be 
the  servitor  of  love — a  plight  shared  by  both 
Hercules  and  Pyrocles.  The  Heliodorean  remin- 
iscence, dimmed  here  by  Renaissance  emblems, 
becomes  unmistakable  in  other  descriptive  pas- 
sages that  are  free  from  symbolism.  Pamela's 
description  of  Musidorus  on  horseback  (Arc.,  II. 
v,  122) — his  skill  in  manage,  the  pride  of  the 
horse,  etc. — is  a  palpable  imitation  of  the  de- 
scription of  Theagenes  riding  in  the  pomp  at 
Delphi  (Mih.,  III.  iii;  U  81-2,  quoted  ante,  p. 
185). 

Sidney  has  acquired  from  Heliodorus,  too,  the 
trick  of  "  pathetic  optics."  On  two  occasions  he 
uses  the  device  of  bringing  a  person  within  the 
field  of  sight  or  hearing  of  another  who  has 
been  too  preoccupied  to  be  aware  of  him  (cf. 
yEth.,  I.  i;  ante,  p.  177).  When  Musidorus  and 
Clitophon  have  repulsed  the  attack  of  Queen 
Helen's  escort,  she  continues  to  keep  her  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  portrait  of  Amphialus,  which  has 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  339 

held  her  gaze  throughout  the  fight  (Arc.,  I.  x, 
43) :  "But  the  chief e  Ladie  [viz.  Queen  Helen] 
hauing  not  so  much  as  once  heard  the  noise  of 
this  coflict  (so  had  sorow  closed  vp  al  the 
entries  of  her  mind,  &  loue  tied  her  seces  to  that 
beloved  picture),  now  the  shadow  of  him  [viz., 
Musidorus]  falling  vpo  the  picture  made  her  cast 
vp  her  eie,  and  seeing  the  armor  which  too  wel 
she  knew  [the  armor  of  Amphialus],  thinking 
him  to  be  Amphialus  the  Lord  of  her  desires 
(bloud  coming  more  freely  into  her  cheekes,  as 
though  it  would  be  bold,  &  yet  there  growing  new 
againe  pale  for  feare)  with  a  pitiful  looke  (like 
one  vniustly  condened)  My  Lord  Amphialus 
(said  she)  "  .  .  .  ,  etc.  Again,  Amphialus  visit- 
ing his  beloved  captive  Philoclea  (Arc.  III.  iii, 
253V)  finds  her  "(because  her  chamber  was  ouer- 
lightsome)  sitting  of  that  side  of  her  bedde  which 
was  from  the  windowe;  which  did  cast  such  a 
shadow  vpon  her,  as  a  good  Painter  woulde  be- 
stowe  uppon  Venus,  when  vnder  the  trees  she 
bewayled  the  murther  of  Adonis:  .  .  .  ouer  her 
head  a  scarfe,  which  did  eclipse  almost  halfe 
her  eyes,  which  vnder  it  fixed  their  beames  upon 
the  wall  .  .  .  with  [a]  ...  steddie  maner  .  .  .  ; 
and  so  remayned  they  a  good  while  after  his 
comming  in,  he  not  daring  to  trouble  her,  nor  she 
perceyuing  him,  till  that  (a  little  varying  her 
thoughts  something  quickening  her  senses)  she 
heard  him  as  he  happed  to  stirre  his  vpper  gar- 
ment [which  was  stiff  with  silk,  velvet,  and 
pearls  (see  ante,  p.  336)  and  would  rustle  and 
crackle]  ;  and  perceyuing  him,  rose  up,  with  a  de- 


34°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

meanure,  where  in  the  booke  of  Beautie  there  was 
nothing  to  be  read  but  Sorrow:  for  Kindnesse 
was  blotted  out,  and  Anger  was  neuer  there." 
The  distraite  lady,  the  position  of  her  eyes,  the 
interrupting  man  entering  the  field  of  her  con- 
sciousness, the  pictorial  envisagement  of  the 
situation,  the  lady's  pathos,  and  its  effect  upon 
her  countenance, — these  -are  the  traditional  ele- 
ments of  Sidney's  Heliodorean  scene.20 

The  flavor  of  Heliodorus  in  the  "Arcadia" 
grows  more  and  more  intense  toward  the  close 
(cf.  ante,  p.  322)  ;  and  at  the  trial  one  is  not 
surprised  to  find  a  perfect  deluge  of  pathetic 
optics.  Here  is  the  spectacular  ensemble-scene 
of  ordeal ;  men's  lives  and  women's  honor  at 
stake ;  the  succession  to  the  Arcadian  throne  to 
be  determined ;  an  august  judge ;  an  ample  audi- 
ence to  be  moved  and  to  show  its  emotion,  itself 
part  of  the  moving  spectacle.  On  Basilius's 
throne  (V.  458)  "  Euarchus  did  set  himselfe  all 
clothed  in  blacke,  with  the  principal!  men,  who 
could  in  that  suddennesse  prouide  themselves  of 
such  mourning  rayments ;  the  whole  people  com- 
manded to  keepe  an  orderly  silence  of  each  side, 
which  was  duly  obserued  of  them,  partly  for  the 
desire  they  had  to  see  a  good  conclusion  of  these 
matters,  and  partly  striken  with  admiration,  as 
well  at  the  graue  and  Princely  presence  of  Eu- 
archus, as  at  the  greatnesse  of  the  cause,  which 
was  then  to  come  in  question."  Enter  now  the 
prisoners  (ibid.,  459),  Pyrocles,  Musidorus,  and 

20  Cf.  also  A.  T.,  VI.  vi:  When  Thersander  enters  the 
hut,  Leucippe  raises  her  dejected  eyes,  which  he  sees  by 
a  dim  light. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  341 

Gynecia.  "  Her  eies  downe  on  the  ground,  of 
purpose  not  to  looke  on  Pyrocles  face  .  .  .  for 
the  feare,  those  motions  [=  emotions]  .  .  . 
should  be  reuiued,  which  she  had  with  the  pas- 
sage of  infinite  sorrowes  mortified.  Great  ivas 
the  compassion  the  people  felt,  to  see  their 
Princesse  state  and  beautie  so  deformed.  .  .  . 
But  by  and  by  the  sight  of  the  other  two  prisoners 
[Pyr.  and  Mus.]  drew  most  of  the  eies  to  that 
spectacle."  And  indeed  their  array  and  their 
bearing  were  most  splendid.  Pyrocles  came 
"  clothed  after  the  Greeke  manner,  in  a  long  coate 
of  white  veluet,  .  .  .  with  great  buttons  of  Dia- 
monds all  along  upon  it;"  his  white  neck  bare; 
on  his  feet  "  slippers,  which,  after  the  ancient 
maner,  were  tyed  up  with  certaine  laces,  which 
were  fastned  under  his  Knee,  having  wrapped 
about  (with  many  prettie  Knots)  his  naked 
legges ; "  his  auburn  hair,  stirring  in  the  wind, 
tied  with  a  white  ribbon,  each  end  of  which  was 
adorned  with  a  rich  pearl.  Musidorus  was  in  a 
satin  mantle  of  Tyrian  purple,  and  wore  a  Persian 
tiara,  set  with  rubies,  upon  his  black  curling 
hair.21  Their  courage  in  the  face  of  death  was 
thus  expressed  by  way  of  the  pride  of  life  and 
lust  of  the  eye.  "  In  this  sort  with  erected  coun- 
tenances did  these  vn fortunate  Princes  suffer 
themselues  to  be  ledde,  shewing  aright,  by  the 
comparison  of  them  and  Gynecia,  how  to  diners 
persons  compassion  is  diuersly  to  bee  stirred." 
Gynecia,  favorably  known  to  the  spectators,  and 

21  The  color-scheme  of  their  array  accords  with  their 
complexions.  The  blond  is  in  white,  with  diamonds  and 
pearls,  the  brown  in  reds,  with  gold  and  rubies. 


342  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

known  to  be  fallen  from  a  high  estate,  stirs  com- 
passion by  an  appearance  of  humility;  the 
strangers,  scarcely  known,  known  only  unfavor- 
ably, and  not  known  to  be  Princes,  must  conquer 
compassion  with  an  appearance  of  extraordinary 
valor.  "And  such  effect  indeed  it  wrought  in  the 
whole  assembly,  their  eyes  yet  standing  as  it 
were  in  the  ballance  to  whether  of  them  they 
should  most  direct  their  sight."  Gynecia  having 
finished  her  confession,  sits  down  (ibid.,  462). 
"  But  a  great  while  it  was,  before  anie  bodie 
could  bee  heard  speake,  the  whole  people  con- 
curring in  a  lamentable  crie,  so  much  had  Gyne- 
cia's  words  and  behauiour  stirred  their  hearts  to 
a  dole  full  compassion,  neither  in  troath  could 
most  of  them  in  their  iudgments  tell,  whether  they 
should  bee  more  sorrie  for  her  fault  or  her 
miserie:  for  the  losse  of  her  estate,  or  losse  of 
her  vertue.  But  most  were  most  moved  with 
that  which  was  under  their  eies,  the  sense  most 
subject  to  pitie." 

Further  quotation,  of  the  pathos  of  the  guards 
and  the  spectators  after  Gynecia's  condemnation 
(ibid.,  463),  of  the  pathos  of  Pyrocles  and  of 
Musidorus  during  and  after  Philanax's  invec- 
tives against  them  (ibid.,  467-8,  473),  of  the 
pathos  of  the  people  and  of  Sympathus  at  the 
conclusion  of  Musidorus's  reply  (ibid.,  474),  and 
of  the  pathos  of  the  people  and  of  Philanax  him- 
self at  Calodoulos's  disclosure  of  the  Princes' 
identity — could  scarcely  render  more  irresistible 
the  conclusion  that  Sidney  is  consciously  and  de- 
liberately borrowing  the  pathetic  optics  of 
Heliodorus. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  343 

The  same  may  be  said  of  Sidney's  borrowing  of 
Heliodorus's  narrative  method,  or  structure  (as 
distinguished  from  his  narrative  material — see 
ante,  p.  328).  To  render  this  point  clear,  it 
will  be  necessary  to  give  some  account  of  the 
growth  of  the  "Arcadia"  to  its  present  form 
under  Sidney's  hand. 

The  earliest  extant  allusion  to  the  "  Arcadia  " 
is  believed22  to  be  that  in  Thomas  Howell's  "  De- 
vises" (1581).  In  this  collection  the  verses 
"  Written  to  a  most  excellent  Book,  full  of  rare 
inuention"  (ed.  Grosart,  pp.  204-5)  can  hardly 
refer  to  anything  but  Sidney's  romance: 

"  Goe  learned  booke,  and  vnto  Pallas  sing, 
Thy  pleasant  tunes.  .  .  . 

How  much  they  erre,  thy  rare  euent  bewrayes, 
That  stretch  their  skill  the  fates  to  ouerthrow: 
And  how  mans  wisedome   here  in  vaine  seekes 

wayes, 

To  shun  high  powers  that  sway  our  states  below. 
Against  whose  rule,  although  we  strive  to  runne, 
What  Loue  foresets,  no  humaine  force  may  shunne. 

But  all  to  long,  thou  hidste  so  perfite  worke, 
.  .  .  Then   shewe   thy  selfe  and   seeme   no   more 

vnkinde. 

Unfolde  thy  fruite,  and  spread  thy  maysters  praise, 
Whose  prime  of  youth,  graue  deeds  of  age  displaies. 

Go  choyce  conceits  .  .  . 

Discourse  of  Lovers,  and  such  as  folde  sheepe,  .  .  . 
Goe  yet  I  say  .  .  . 

The  worthy  Countesse  see  thou  follow  euer, 
Tyll  Fates  doe  fayle,  maintaine  her  Noble  name. 

M 

a"Camb.  Hist,  of  Eng.  Lit.,"  III.  viii,  p.  211. 


344  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

This  would  perhaps  date  the  composition  of 
the  "Arcadia"  rather  before  1580,  the  year  of 
Sidney's  retirement  to  Wilton,  and  the  year 
usually  assigned.  A  year  of  non-publication — 
from  1580  to  1581 — would  hardly  be  enough  to 
justify  Howell  in  complaining  ..."  all  to  long 
thou  hidste  so  perfite  work — ";  books  often  re- 
mained unpublished  and  were  circulated  in  Ms. 
for  much  longer  than  a  year.  The  "Arcadia" 
may  well  have  been  composed,  as  Mr.  Dobell  sug- 
gests (p.  82),  between  1578  and  1580. 

More  important  for  the  present  purpose  than 
the  date,  is  the  form  in  which  Sidney  wrote  his 
romance.  A  letter23  of  Lord  Brooke  (Fulke 
Greville,  Sidney's  friend)  to  Sir  Francis  Wal- 
singham  (Sidney's  father-in-law)  written  after 
Sidney's  death  (1586),  preserved  among  the  State 
Papers,  and  endorsed  "November,  1586,"  speaks 
of  "  Sr.  Philip  Sydney's  old  arcadia,"  and  of  "  a 
correction  of  that  old  one,  don  4  or  5  years  sinse, 
which  he  [Sidney]  left  in  trust  with  me;  wherof 
ther  is  no  more  copies,  and  fitter  to  be  printed 
then  the  first,  which  is  so  common."  Abraham 
Fraunce's  "Arcadian  Rhetorike,"  as  observed  by 
E.  Koeppel,2*  and  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  "  Cu- 
pids Revenge,"25  which  is  founded  on  the  "  Arca- 
dia," show  that  Sidney  at  first  used  the  name 
Cleophila  (adopted  from  the  "Amadis")26  in- 
stead of  Zelmane.  There  was  evidently,  then,  an 
"Old  Arcadia,"  unpublished  but  circulated  in 

33  Quoted  by  Sommer,  Introduction  to  his  facsimile  ed., 
p.  i  ;  and  by  Dobell,  p.  76. 

**  Anglia,  X.  522  ff.     Cited  by  Brunhuber,  p.  19,  n.  2. 
88  Brunhuber,  ibid.,  and  p.  32. 
"  Brunhuber,  p.  19. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  345 

manuscript,  which,  in  one  particular  at  least,  dif- 
fered from  the  published  versions. 

How  much  it  differed  remained  unknown  for 
rather  more  than  three  centuries,  during  which  it 
was  supposed  that  no  copies  of  the  "  Old  Ar- 
cadia "  were  extant.  In  the  year  1907,  however, 
Mr.  Bertram  Dobell  found  no  less  than  three  Ms. 
copies  of  it.27  The  contents  of  these  were  "  prac- 
tically identical."28  Two  of  them  are  now  in  the 
possession  of  an  American  collector,  who  has 
kindly  permitted  me  to  examine  them,  and  to 
make  the  transcripts  and  notes  printed  in  the 
present  study  (Appendix  B).  Mr.  Dobell's  ac- 
count, verified  at  every  point,  and  supplemented, 
by  my  own  examination  of  the  Mss.,  supports  the 
following  assertions: 

1.  Sidney  wrote,  during  or  before  1580,  a  com- 
plete romance,  never  printed,  but  widely  circu- 
lated   in    Ms.     It    consisted    of    five   books,   or 
"  Acts,"  with  "  Eglogues  "  inserted  between  every 
two    books.     This    is    the    original,    or    "  Old 
Arcadia." 

2.  Later  he  began  "  a  correction  of  that  old 
one,"  or  rather  a  new  version,  entirely  recast, 
and  greatly  augmented  by  the  addition  of  numer- 
ous episodes.     This  new  version,  when  cut  off  by 
his  death  in  1586,  had  proceeded  to  a  point  near 
the  end  of  one  of  the  added  episodes — that  of 
"  Cecropia  or  the  Captivity."     As  far  as  it  went, 
the  recast  version  contained  two  Books,  with  two 
sets  of  Eclogues,  and  an  inordinately  long  frag- 

*  His  account  of  his  find  appeared  in  the  Quarterly  Re- 
view, July,  1909  (Vol.  211),  pp.  74-100. 

*  Dobell,  p.  89. 


34°  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

ment  of  a  Third  Book.  It  was  published  in  1590, 
quarto;  and  is  the  first  edition  of  any  part  of 
the  "  Arcadia."  The  "  overseer  of  the  print " 
divided  it  into  chapters,  with  captions  indicating 
the  contents  of  each  chapter.  This  I  call  the 
"  New  Arcadia." 

3.  In  1593  appeared  an  edition  authorized  by 
the  Countess  of  Pembroke.  This  is  the  current 
version,  reproduced  in  numerous  subsequent  edi- 
tions, and  may  be  called  the  "  Arcadia,"  sans  plus. 
It  is  made  up  as  follows : 

(a)  The  New  Arcadia,  but  without  chapter- 
divisions  or  chapter-headings ;  divided  only  into 
Book  I ;  Eclogues ;  Book  II ;  Eclogues ;  and  Book 
III  as  far  as  the  end  of  the  revision. 

(b)  An  ending  to  Book  III,  consisting  of  the 
whole  of  Book  III  of  the  Old  Arcadia;  likewise 
Eclogues  to  Book  III;  Book  IV;  Eclogues  to 
Book  IV ;  and  Book  V,  all  from  the  Old  Arcadia. 

(c)  At  the  beginning  of  the  part  of  Book  III 
following  the  hiatus — viz.,  at  the  beginning  of 
Book  III  of  the  Old  Arcadia,  there  has  been 
inserted  a  transitional  clause  not  found  in  the 
Old  Arcadia :  "  After  that  Basilius  (according  to 
the    Oracles    promise)    had    received   back    his 
daughters,"  etc.     Of  course,  no  such  clause  was 
necessary,  or  possible,  in  the  Old  Arcadia,  for 
that  did  not  contain  the  episode  of  the  Captivity. 
Doubtless  it  was  inserted  by  the  Countess  or  her 
friends  to  bridge  the  gap. 

(d)  At  the  end  of  Book  V,  the  list  of  unfinished 
episodes  omits  the  loves  of  Amasis  and  Artaxia 
(see  Ap.  B,  p.  475),  and  mentions  instead  the 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  347 

episode  of  Helen  and  Amphialus.  The  reason  is 
that  "  Amasis  and  Artaxia  "  is  in  the  Old  Arcadia 
but  not  in  the  New ;  "  Helen  and  Amphialus " 
is  in  the  New  Arcadia  but  not  in  the  Old. 
Doubtless  this  change,  like  (c),  was  made  by  the 
Countess  or  her  friends. 

The  changes  which  Sidney  made  in  the  Old 
Arcadia  to  produce  the  New  are  of  great  in- 
'terest.     The  contents  of  the  Old  Arcadia  are  as 
follows : 

A.  What  I  have  called  the  "  main  plot " :  Ora- 
cle ;  Basilius  and  his  family  retire ;  Princes  arrive, 
fall  in  love, assume  disguise;  Basilius  (here called 
"Duke,"  not  "King")  and  Gynecia  fall  in  love 
with  "Cleophila"  (Pyrocles's  name  as  Amazon, 
instead  of  "  Zelmane " — cf .  ante,  p.  344) ;  and 
contents  of  Books  III,  IV,  and  V  as  in  the  cur- 
rent "  Arcadia  " :  Musidorus  and  Pamela  elope 
and   are   captured ;   "  Cleophila "   makes   double 
rendezvous  and  double  quiproquo,  and  is  cap- 
tured with  Philoclea;  Basilius  drinks  potion  and 
is  supposed  to  be  dead ;  Evarchus  arrives  and  pre- 
sides at  trial;  recognition,  reunion,  resuscitation 
of  Basilius,  and  happy  ending. 

B.  The  earlier  history  of  the  Princes.     This  is 
only  hinted  in  the  body  of  the  Romance,  but  is 
told  in  full  (though  much  more  briefly  than  in 
the  New  Arcadia),  in  the  Eclogues  to  Books  I 
and  II. 

C.  Episodes — also  excluded  from  the  body  of 
the  Romance,  and   related   in  the  Eclogues  to 
Books  I  and  II  as  they  occur  in  connection  with 
the  Princes'  travels:  (a)  Erona,  Antiphilus,  and 


348  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Plangus  (Ap.  B,  p.  472).  (b)  Amasis  and  his 
(unnamed)  stepmother,  Queen  at  Memphis  (Ap. 
B,  p.  473-4).  (c)  Andromana  and  the  Princes 
(Ap.  B,  p.  473).  (Nothing  about  Andromana 
and  Plangus,29  Argalus  and  Parthenia,  Amphia- 
lus  and  Helen,  Phalantus  and  Artesia,  Pamphilus 
and  Dido,  the  Paphlagonica,  or  the  Captivity.) 

Especially  notable  is  the  order  in  which"  these 
materials  are  set  forth.  The  oracle,  the  actuating 
force  of  the  whole  Romance,  is  artlessly  disclosed 
at  the  very  beginning.  Thenceforth  the  other 
events  in  the  Main  Plot  follow  in  chronological 
order.  The  Earlier  History  of  the  Princes,  the 
Episodes — all  that  might  invert  the  chronological 
order,  or  in  any  way  render  the  narrative  com- 
plex or  involved — are  shut  off  into  the  Eclogues. 

The  processes  by  which  Sidney  turned  the  Old 
Arcadia  into  the  New  may  be  classified  as  follows : 

1.  Augmentation. — He   added    largely   to   the 
Princes'  previous  adventures;  and  he  added  in 
toto  the  episodes  of  Argalus  and  Parthenia,  Am- 
phialus  and  Helen,  Phalantus  and  Artesia,  Pam- 
philus and  Dido,  the  Paphlagonica  or  Galatica, 
and  Cecropia  or  the  Captivity. 

2.  Combination  or  Merger. — He  compounded 
Andromana,  who  solicited  and  imprisoned  the 
Princes30   and  was   afterwards  the  wife  of  an 
apple-monger,  with  the  unnamed  Egyptian  Queen 
who  solicited  and  slandered  her  stepson  Amasis, 
and  afterwards  killed  herself.31     He  called  the 
combination  "  Andromana,"  made  her  at  first  the 

29  But  see  post,  p.  349. 
80  Heliodorus's  Arsace. 
31  Heliodorus's  Demaeneta. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  349 

wife  of  a  citizen,  and  attributed  to  her  both  the 
attempted  intrigues, — that  with  the  Princes,  and 
that  with,  and  against,  her  stepson  (cf.  ante, 
pp.  313-314). 

This  stepson,  originally  Amasis  a  Prince  at 
Memphis,  Sidney  merged  into  the  Plangus  who 
was  already  in  love  with  Erona ;  and  he  called  the 
result  "  Plangus."  Consequently  he  discarded 
Amasis,  whose  betrothal  to  Artaxia  was  men- 
tioned in  the  Old  Arcadia,  and  whose  story  was 
left  unfinished  at  the  end.  Consequently,  too,  the 
editors  of  the  current  "Arcadia"  were  obliged 
to  strike  out  this  mention  from  the  end  of  their 
Book  V  (see  ante,  pp.  346-347). 

3.  Complication. — The  Episodes,  and  the  Pre- 
vious History  of  the  Princes,  Sidney  now  took 
from  the  Eclogues,  and  inserted  them  into  the 
body  of  the  New  Arcadia.  The  Previous  His- 
tory of  the  Princes  he  now  placed  in  their  own 
mouths :  they  tell  the  "  story  of  their  lives "  as 
part  of  their  courtship  (Musidorus  at  II.  iii,  vi— 
x,  Pyrocles  at  II.  xvii-xxiii).  Their  act  of  nar- 
ration is  thus  one  of  the  events  actually  current 
in  the  Main  Plot.  The  Episodes  come  into  the 
current  narrative  in  either  or  both  of  two  ways. 
When,  like  "  Phalantus  and  Artesia,"  the  episode 
has  no  connection  with  the  previous  history  of  the 
Princes,  it  is  simply  inserted  in  the  Main  Plot. 
When,  like  the  "  Paphlagonica,"  it  forms  part 
of  the  experience  of  the  Princes  during  their  tour 
through  Asia,  it  comes  in  as  a  portion  of  their 
narrative.  And  when,  as  in  the  case  of  "  Antiph- 
ilus,  Erona,  and  Plangus"  it  also  forms  part  of 


350  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

a  chain  of  events  affecting  the  Main  Plot  itself, 
it  enters  the  current  narrative  in  both  ways :  the 
Princesses  tell  part  of  it,  and  we  hear  that  Plan- 
gus  himself  was  their  informant,  as  he  passed 
through  Arcadia  on  his  way  to  summon  Evarchus 
to  the  rescue  of  Erona.  Not  satisfied  merely  to 
connect  episodes  with  the  Main  Plot,  Sidney  must 
connect  them  with  each  other  too.  Plangus  ap- 
pears in  the  episode  of  Erona  and  in  that  of 
Andromana.  Plexirtus  reaches  out  from  the 
"  Paphlagonica,"  and  takes  in  marriage  Artaxia, 
from  the  "  Erona  "  story.  Together  they  not  only 
continue  to  persecute  Erona,  and  cause  Plangus 
to  seek  rescue  for  her  across  the  Main  Plot,  but 
they  seek  the  lives  of  the  Princes;  and  it  was 
Plexirtus's  treachery  that  cast  the  Princes  on  the 
Laconian  coast,  and  ultimately  brought  them  to 
the  family  of  Basilius.  Amphialus,  in  the  same 
way,  figures  in  the  episode  of  Queen  Helen,  the 
episode  of  Argalus  and  Parthenia,  the  episode  of 
the  Captivity,  and  the  Main  Plot. 

4.  Suspense. — An  immediate  result  of  this  in- 
terpolation and  interlacing  of  episode  with  main 
plot  and  with  previous  history  is  that  no  story  is 
ever  finished  at  a  sitting.  One  story  must  be  sus- 
pended while  another  is  begun;  and  that  in  its 
turn  must  give  way  to  a  third;  then  the  main 
current  may  be  resumed  for  a  moment,  only  to 
stop  again  while  one  of  the  inserted  stories  is 
continued.32  Thus  (II.  xiv,  162)  Philoclea  has 

33  Despite  his  frequent  interruptions,  however,  Sidney 
does  not  indulge  in  digression  or  irrelevancy,  except  in 
his  descriptions  of  imprese  (cf.  ante,  p.  335  ff).  He  con- 
fesses his  fault  (II.  xxi,  igdv.)  :  "Thus  I  have  digrest, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  351 

told  the  first  portion  of  the  story  of  Erona,  end- 
ing with  the  marriage  to  Antiphilus.  Now,  she 
says,  there  is  horrible  matter  to  tell:  "  So  if  I  do 
not  desire  you  to  stop  your  eares  fro  me,  yet  may 
I  well  desire  a  breathing  time,  before  I  am  to  tell 
the  execrable  treason  of  Antiphilus."  Accord- 
ingly she  stops,  and  asks  Pamela  to  tell  meanwhile 
the  story  of  Plangus.  Pamela  is  willing ;  but  Miso 
interrupts  with  her  abuse  of  Love,  and  Mopsa 
interrupts  with  her  fairy-tale.  Then  (II.  xv,  166- 
172)  Pamela  tells  the  story  of  Plangus,  to  the 
point  where  Plangus  returns  to  Armenia  leaving 
Erona  married  to  Antiphilus  (viz.,  the  same  point 
of  time  at  which  Philoclea  has  broken  off)  :  172 
"  when  Erona  by  the  treason  of  Antiphilus.  But 
at  that  word  she  stopped.  For  Basilius  .  .  .  came 
sodainly  among  them."  The  Main  Plot  now  goes 
on.  The  story  of  Erona  is  not  resumed  till  the 
end  of  II.  xxiv,  2i2v.,  and  then  only  to  be  inter- 
rupted as  soon  as  resumed.  It  is  actually  told  at 
last  by  Basilius  to  Zelmane  (=Pyrocles),  II. 
xxix,  227-233V.  (the  very  end  of  Book  II). 

5.  Inversion. — This  new  narrative  plan  implies 
an  almost  total  destruction  of  chronological  or- 
der. The  epic  convention  of  having  "  the  story 
of  one's  life "  narrated  by  a  personage  in  the 
course  of  the  current  story,  belongs  with  the  epic 
convention  of  plunging  at  once  in  medias  res. 
Sidney  adopts  both  for  the  New  Arcadia.  It  be- 
gins with  the  Princes'  second  shipwreck,  the  one 
that  casts  them  on  the  coast  of  Laconia.  Thence 

because  his  manner  liked  me  wel ;  "  and  again  (ibid.,  197)  : 
"  But  the  delight  of  those  pleasing  sights  have  [sic]  car- 
ried me  too  farrc  in  an  unnecessary  discourse." 


35 2  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

it  proceeds  chronologically,  until  Kalander  goes 
back  to  tell  the  occasion  of  Basilius's  retirement. 
Until  Musidorus  meets  Pyrocles  again  at  Car- 
damila,  the  story  is  chronological  once  more ;  but 
then  Pyrocles  must  go  back  and  tell  his  adven- 
tures from  the  time  when  the  pirates  took  him 
from  the  floating  mast.  This  alternation  of  cur- 
rent narrative  moving  straightforward,  with  re- 
lated narrative  telling  of  earlier  events,  continues 
till  the  end  of  Book  II,  after  which  comes  the 
Captivity,  and  then  the  long  denouement  in  the 
order  of  time  as  it  prevailed  in  the  Old  Arcadia. 
The  epic  convention  finds  its  greatest  triumph, 
perhaps,  in  withholding  the  text  of  the  oracle,  the 
prime  mover  of  the  Main  Plot,  till  the  reader,  if 
he  has  survived  at  all,  is  dying  of  curiosity  to 
know  what  all  this  is  about.  Though  he  has  heard 
that  an  Oracle  caused  it  all,  he  is  not  told  what 
the  Oracle  said,  until  folio  225  verso, — 450  pages 
from  the  beginning! 

Of  course,  such  marvellous  involution  and  com- 
plexity defeat  their  own  artistic  ends.  One  who 
reads  for  pleasure  simply  cannot  understand  the 
"  Arcadia."  He  gets  a  dim  notion,  after  awhile, 
of  the  course  of  the  Main  Plot;  but  most  of  the 
Episodes,  with  their  relation  to  each  other,  to  the 
Main  Plot,  and  to  the  Previous  History  of  the 
Princes,  remain  in  a  fog.  Only  a  deliberate  disen- 
tanglement of  the  threads — to  employ  a  paradox 
— can  make  the  pattern  clear.  But  the  same  pro- 
cess of  disentanglement  shows  with  what  deliber- 
ation, and  with  what  almost  incredible  skill,  Sid- 
ney performed  the  opposite  process — the  process 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  353 

of  re-weaving  the  Old  Arcadia  upon  the  loom 
of  Helidorus.  For  he  has  not  dropped  a  single 
thread  in  the  whole  enormous  design.  As  far 
as  he  recast  it,  the  grandiose  pattern  is  perfect.38 
And  evidences  of  deliberate  narrative  skill  abound : 
as  in  the  employment  of  suspense  (cf.  ante,  pp. 
350-351),  the  introduction  of  comic  relief  (cf. 
ante,  pp.  330-331),  the  ridicule  of  mediaeval  nar- 
rative structure  (cf.  ante,  pp.  332-3),  and  the 
lapse  of  Musidorus's  narrative  about  himself 
from  the  third  to  the  first  person  (II.  xiii,  137), — 
a  lapse  which  betrays  his  identity  to  the  amused 
Pamela.34  Evidently,  Sidney  has  acquired  to  the 
full  the  narrative  technique  of  Heliodorus,  and 
has  bettered  the  instruction. 

The  Old  Arcadia  consisted  of  material  largely 
derived  from  Heliodorus  and  wholly  kept  within 
a  Heliodorean  frame;  the  New  Arcadia  retains 
this  material  and  this  frame,  and  deliberately  re- 
casts it  in  the  Heliodorean  mould  of  narrative 
structure.  Sidney  has  learned  to  write  Greek  Ro- 
mance in  English.  It  is  difficult  not  to  regard  the 
New  Arcadia  as  a  conscious  attempt  to  domesti- 
cate the  genre. 

M  There  is  one  inconsistency,  so  trivial  as  to  be  scarcely 
worth  mentioning.  At  II.  x,  142,  the  Princes  are  said  to 
be  on  their  way  through  "  Galacia "  when  they  overhear 
the  talk  of  the  deposed  and  blinded  King  with  his  son 
Leonatus.  Ibid.,  143,  Leonatus,  in  telling  the  story,  says: 
"  This  old  man  .  .  .  was  lately  rightfull  Prince  of  this 
countrie  of  Paphlagonia."  At  II.  xxii,  2oiv. ;  II.  xxiii, 
2o6v.,  and  ibid.,  208,  it  is  Galatia  again. — Sidney  may  have 
forgotten  to  change  one  "  Paphlagonia  "  to  "  Galatia  "  ;  or 
his  Ms.  change  may  have  been  so  dim  that  the  printer 
made  the  error,  which  the  "  overseer  of  the  print "  over- 
looked. 

"  Cf.  "  Heptameron  "  (VII),  62. 
24 


354  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

This  impression  is  confirmed,  strongly  and 
subtly,  by  the  style  of  the  "Arcadia."  Compounded 
of  many  ingredients,  Sidney's  style  varies  from 
page  to  page.  Sometimes  it  is  touched  with 
Euphuism,  sometimes  with  Petrarchism,  some- 
times with  the  Catalogue,  Summary,  and  Splitting 
Constructions  of  late  Latin  rhetoric.  Sometimes 
it  has  lovely  cadences  of  its  own, — as  in  the  pas- 
sage about  the  shepherd  who  piped  "as  if  he 
never  would  be  old,"  or  the  passage  (quoted  ante, 
P-  339)  ending  "  for  Kindness  was  blotted  out, 
and  Anger  was  never  there."  But  its  prevailing 
characteristics  are  "  epideictic  " :  a  fondness  for 
the  oratory,  the  theatrical  terminology,  the  an- 
tithesis, and  the  oxymoron,  which  give  such  a 
specific  flavor  to  Greek  Romance. 

The  first  of  these  is  more  prominent  in  the  Old 
Arcadia  than  in  the  New.  There  are,  to  be  sure, 
three  set  speeches  in  the  newer  Books :  Pyrocles's 
oration  to  the  Helots  (I.  vii,  29v.~3Ov.) ;  Pyro- 
cles's harangue  to  the  Arcadian  rebels  (II.  xxvi, 
217-220)  ;  and  Clinias's  crafty  and  plausible  ex- 
planation of  the  rebellion  he  has  himself  incited 
(II.  xxvii,  22iv.-223v.).  But  these  are  almost 
inconsiderable  when  compared  with  the  full  tide 
of  discourse  in  the  Old  Arcadia — the  latter  part 
of  Book  III,  together  with  Books  IV  and  V.  The 
space  which  in  Books  I-III  was  filled  with  action 
or  the  narrative  of  action  (frequently  episodic) 
is  here,  in  the  absence  of  episodes,  given  over  to 
speech-making.  There  are  long  parting  speeches 
between  the  princely  friends  (111.347)  ;  protesta- 
tions between  the  lovers  (III.  361);  arguments 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  355 

for  and  against  suicide  (IV.  419-22) ;  Musi- 
dorus's  argument  to  persuade  his  rebel  captors  to 
help  him  elope  with  Pamela  instead  of  turning 
him  over  to  the  authorities  (IV.  431);  Timau- 
tus's  harangue  against  Philanax,  and  Philanax's 
reply  (IV.  436)  ;  Philanax's  petition  to  Evarchus 
to  accept  the  Protectorate,  and  Evarchus's  reply 
(V.  450,  451) ;  Evarchus's  speech  to  the  Arca- 
dians upon  assuming  the  Protectorate  (V.  452). 
And  finally  there  is  the  grand  outburst  of  Elo- 
quentia  at  the  trial :  Musidorus's  harangue  to  the 
Arcadians  to  persuade  them  to  protect  Pamela 
(V.  460) ;  Pyrocles's  exoneration  of  Philoclea 
(V.  461) ;  Gynecia's  public  confession  (V.  462) ; 
Philanax's  invective  against  Pyrocles  (V.  464- 
467)  ;  Pyrocles's  reply  (V.  468-470)  ;  Philanax's 
invective  against  Musidorus  (V.  472-3)  ;  Musi- 
dorus's reply  (V.  473-4) ;  Evarchus's  sentence 
(V.  475-477) ;  and  his  confirmation  of  it  after 
being  informed  who  the  prisoners  are  (V.  479). 
The  bulk  of  this  material,  especially  when  taken 
together  with  those  other  pieces  of  display,  the 
&cc£pa0-«5,  is  so  great  as  to  give  to  the  "Arcadia  " 
as  a  whole  the  same  distinctly  rhetorical  cast 
that  is  characteristic  of  Greek  Romance. 

Sidney's  envisagement  of  his  situations  in  theat- 
rical terms  is  about  equally  reminiscent  of  Achilles 
Tatius  and  of  Heliodorus.  The  Princesses  have 
a  moment's  respite  when  Amphialus  and  Cecropia 
have  been  put  out  of  the  way ;  but  soon  Anaxius 
threatens  them  with  death  (III.  xxvi,  349v) : 
"Sister  (said  she)  you  see  how  many  acts  our 
Tragedy  hath:  Fortune  is  not  yet  a  wearie  of 


THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 


vexing  us"  (cf.  A.  T.,  VI.  iii;  JEth.,  V.  vi;  VI. 
iii).  Musidorus  tells  of  the  Princes'  first  ship- 
wreck (II.  vii,  13  iv.)  :  "There  arose  euen  with 
the  Sun,  a  vaile  of  darke  cloudes  before  his  face, 
which  shortly  .  .  .  had  blacked  ouer  all  the  face 
of  heaven;  preparing  (as  it  were)  a  mournefull 
stage  for  a  Tragedie  to  be  plaied  on"  (ibid., 
1  32v.).  "The  next  morning  .  .  .  having  runne 
fortune  as  blindly  as  it  selfe  ever  was  painted, 
lest  the  conclusion  should  not  aunswere  to  the 
rest  of  the  play,  they  were  driuen  vpon  a  rocke." 
The  reason  why  the  King  of  Pontus  sent  aid  to 
the  Princes  on  their  way  through  Galatia  (Paph- 
lagonia)  was  that  he  thought  that  country,  ruled 
as  it  was  by  Plexirtus  (II.  x,  145),  "a  fit  place 
inough  to  make  the  stage  of  any  Tragedie." 
Under  the  tortures  inflicted  by  Cecropia  (III.  xx, 
327v.~328)  Philoclea  "  wasted,  euen  longing  for 
the  conclusion  of  her  tedious  tragedie."  Having 
concluded  to  show  Philoclea  the  (pretended)  de- 
capitation of  Pamela,  Cecropia  (III.  xxi,  329v.) 
"  went  to  Philoclea,  and  told  her,  that  now  she 
was  come  to  the  last  parte  of  the  play  "  (ibid., 
33Ov).  "  And  since  no  intreating,  nor  threatning 
might  preuayle,  she  bad  her  prepare  her  eies  for 
a  new  play,  which  she  should  see  within  fewe 
houres  in  the  hall  of  that  castle."  When  Anaxius 
attempts  a  loutish  caress  (III.  xxvi,  352),  Pamela 
exclaims  :  "  Proud  beast,  yet  thou  plaiest  worse 
thy  Comedy,  then  thy  Tragedy"  (cf.  A.  T.,  VIII. 
x  :  T?}?  fikv  TOV  tepetof  •  •  •  /ca>/Aa>8t'a9  r/icova-a^ev,  •  •  • 
a  8e  fiera  rqv  tcw/AwSiav  erpajyBrja-ev  ijBrj)  .  When 
Pyrocles  retired  to  the  cave,  Gynecia  was  joyful 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  357 

(III.  373),  "holding  her  selfe  assured  that  this 
was  but  a  prologue  to  the  play  [Pyrocles]  had 
promised."  Earlier  (III.  354)  when  she  found 
him  cold,  she  theatened:  "Trust  to  it  hard 
hearted  Tygre,  I  will  not  be  the  only  Actor  of 
this  Tragedie:  since  I  must  fall,  I  will  presse 
down  some  others  with  my  ruines."  And  later 
(IV.  413),  when  Basilius  after  drinking  the  po- 
tion has  fallen  apparently  dead,  Gynecia,  con- 
templating her  own  approaching  death,  exclaims : 
"  O  Zelmane  .  .  .  there  is  a  f  aire  stage  prepared 
for  thee,  to  see  the  tragicall  end  of  thy  hated 
lover." 

Fortune  not  only  brings  about  tragedy  and 
comedy;  it  is  her  special  function  to  contrive 
those  bizarre  situations  and  engineer  those  sud- 
den turns,  which  being  "  contrary  to  expecta- 
tion," produce  paradox,  antithesis,  and  oxymoron 
in  style.35  Musidorus,  about  to  be  put  to  death 
by  the  King  of  Phrygia,  is  saved  by  Pyrocles, 
who  places  in  his  hand  the  very  sword  that  was 
to  have  cut  off  his  head !  The  two  Princes  clear 
the  scaffold;  rioting  ensues  among  the  soldiers; 
the  friends  of  liberty  rise,  overpower  the  guard, 
take  the  city,  and  choose  Musidorus  King!  (II. 
viii,  138)  "  whom  foorthwith  they  lifted  up,  For- 
tune (I  thinke)  smiling  at  her  worke  therein, 
that  a  scaffold  of  execution  should  grow  a  scaf- 
fold of  coronation."36  Here  are  the  usual  in- 

K  rj  ri  vapdSo^a  ical  rb  d$6/C7jTa  (pi\ov<ra  tpydfcffOai  TI/X*?- 
Aelian,  "  Var.  Hist.,"  XIII.  33. 

38  In  lamblichus's  "  Babylonica,"  xxii,  Rhodanes,  about 
to  be  crucified  by  order  of  King  Garmus,  is  released,  and 
becomes  King  in  Garmus's  place.  Possibly  Sidney  saw  a 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


gredients,  —  in  the  situation  .  a  sharp  peripeteia 
wrought  by  Fortune,  in  the  style  a  corresponding 
antithesis.  Or,  Philoclea  runs  away  from  the 
lion  ;  Pyrocles  having  already  killed  the  lion  runs 
after  her  to  present  her  the  head  ;  Gynecia  runs 
after  Zelmane:  —  a  bizarre  situation  (I.  xix,  82). 
"  So  that  it  was  a  new  sight,  Fortune  had  pre- 
pared to  those  woods,  to  see  these  great  person- 
ages thus  runne  one  after  the  other  "  (cf.  A.  T., 
II.  xiv,  7tWrai  TO  dea/na  Kaivbv).  Or,  Amphialus 
having  mortally  wounded  Parthenia  disguised  as 
the  Knight  of  the  Tomb  (III.  xvi,  310),  "was 
astonished  with  griefe  .  .  .,  detesting  his  for- 
tune, that  made  him  vnfortunate  in  victory."  Or 
again,  Philoclea  is  on  her  way  to  plead  to  Zel- 
mane the  suit  of  Basilius,  when  she  would  much 
rather  speak  for  herself  (II.  xvii,  176):  "Well 
she  sawe  her  father  was  growen  her  adverse 
partie,  and  yet  her  fortune  such,  as  she  must 
fauour  her  Riuall  ;  and  the  fortune  of  that  for- 
tune such,  as  neither  that  did  hurt  her,  nor  any 
contrarie  meane  helpe  her."  In  all  these  cases, 
as  in  others,  the  substance  moulds  the  form  ;  the 
event  itself  containing  contradictory  elements 
which  express  themselves  in  verbal  opposition. 

A  number  of  these  antithetical  passages  are 
direct  imitations  of  Heliodorus  and  Achilles 
Tatius.  The  opening  of  the  "  Arcadia  "  —  the 
description  of  the  shipwreck  —  at  once  strikes  the 
note  of  Greek  Romance.  The  shepherds  and 
Musidorus  sailing  out  to  the  wreck  (I.  i,  4v.) 

Ms.  of  Photius's  "  Bibliotheca,"  which  gives  a  summary 
of  lamblichus's  romance.  Photius  was  not  printed  until 
1601. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  359 

"saw  a  sight  full  of  piteous  strangeness:  a  ship 
.  .  .  part  broken,  part  burned,  part  drowned  .  .  . 
About  it  rioted  great  store  of  very  rich  thinges 
.  .  .  and  amidst  the  precious  things  were  a  num- 
ber of  dead  bodies,  which  likewise  did  not  onely 
testifie  both  elements  [viz.,  fire's  and  water's] 
violence,  but  that  the  chiefe  violence  was  growen 
of  humane  inhumanitie  .  .  .  in  summe,  a  defeate, 
where  the  conquered  kept  both  field  and  spoile; 
a  shipwreck  without  storme  or  ill  footing;  and  a 
waste  of  fire  in  the  midst  of  water."  The  scene 
of  dead  men  as  sole  possessors  of  rich  spoil  is 
also  Heliodorus's  opening  scene  (^Eth.,  Li;  V. 
xxix ;  U  148) ;  the  strange  wreck  is  closely  akin 
to  Gorgias's  purple  patch,  imitated  by  Achilles 
Tatius  (A.  T.,  IV.  xiv)  among  many  others 
(ante,  p.  218  ff.) ;  and  the  "  fire  and  water"  com- 
bination is  from  Achilles  Tatius's  Sicilian  spring 
(A.  T.,  II.  xiv).  When  Sidney  returns  to  this 
same  shipwreck  (Arc.,  II.  xxiv,  211),  he  again 
gets  his  motifs  from  Greek  Romance.  The  cap- 
tain having  been  commissioned  by  Plexirtus  to 
murder  the  Princes,  a  fight  occurs  between  the 
mariners  and  their  own  passengers,  as  in  A.  T., 
II.  iii — ("a  strange  new  kind  of  sea-fight," 
Achilles  Tatius  calls  it).  As  in  Achilles  Tatius, 
so  in  Sidney,  there  is  a  conflict  for  the  possession 
of  the  boats  (Arc.,  II.  xxiv,  2iov.-2ii):  "The 
most  part  .  .  .  leapt  into  the  boate,  which  was 
fast  to  the  ship:  but  while  they  that  were  first, 
were  cutting  of  the  rope  that  tied  it,  others  came 
leaping  in,  so  disorderly  that  they  drowned  both 
the  boate,  and  themselves."  And  meanwhile  the 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


ship  takes  fire  (ibid.,  21  i)  :  "Truely  it  was  a 
straunge  and  ougly  sight  to  see  so  huge  a  fire 
.  .  .  in  the  Sea."  (Fire  and  water  again.) 

Another  purple  patch  from  Heliodorus's  open- 
ing scene  Sidney  has  sewed  upon  Clinias's  ac- 
count of  the  Arcadian  insurrection.  Celebrating 
the  king's  birthday,  the  populace  got  drunk  and 
quarrelsome  (Arc.,  II.  xxvii,  223-223?.)  :  "Thus 
was  their  banquette  turned  to  a  battaile,  their 
winie  mirthes  to  bloudie  rages  .  .  .  They  neuer 
weyed  how  to  arme  theselues,  but  tooke  up  every- 
thing for  a  weapon,  that  furie  offered  to  their 
handes  .  .  .  some  caught  hold  of  spittes  (thinges 
seruiceable  for  life)  to  be  the  instruments  of 
death.  And  there  was  some  such  one,  who  held 
the  same  pot  wherein  he  drank  to  your  health,  to 
vse  it  .  .  .  to  your  mischief  e."  The  italicized 
particulars  are  taken  almost  verbatim  from  y£th., 
I.  i  (U  9-10)  :  "  .  .  .  the  tables  were  furnished 
with  delicate  dishes,  some  whereof  laie  in  the 
handes  of  those  that  were  slaine,  being  in  steede 
of  weapons  .  .  .  Besides,  the  cuppes  were  over- 
throwen,  and  fell  out  of  the  handes,  either  of 
them  that  dranke,  or  those,  who  had  insteade  of 
stones  used  them.  For  that  soudaine  mischief  e 
wrought  newe  devises,  and  taught  them  in  steade 
of  weapons  to  use  their  pottes  .  .  .  bruingbloude 
with  wine,  joyning  battaile  with  banketting." 
These  verbal  parallels  tend  to  show  that,  though 
Sidney  may  have  used  the  original  Greek,  he  also 
had  before  him  the  translation  by  Underdowne. 

Musidorus  apostrophizes  the  letter  he  is  about 
to  hand  to  Pamela  (II.  v,  I23v.)  :  "Therefore 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  361 

mourne  boldly,  my  Inke;  for  while  she  lookes 
upon  you,  your  blacknes  wil  shine:  crie  out  boldly, 
my  Lametatio;  for  while  she  reads  you,  your 
cries  will  be  musicke."  The  original  may  be 
either  A.  T.,  III.  x:  Tovdprjvove^op^aoiJiai,fCT\. 
or  ^Eth.,  VI.  viii:  acrw/jiev  Opr^vovf  teal  7001/5 
vTropxijaw/jieOa.  U.  162-3 :  "  Let  us  sing  tears 
.  .  .  and  dance  lamentations."  Handing  her  this 
letter  (ibid.,  124)  "  hee  went  away  as  if  he  had 
beene  but  the  coffin  that  carried  himselfe  to  his 
sepulcher."  This  is  evidently  part  of  the  long 
train  that  follows  Gorgias's  yvTres  e^v^oi  Ta<f>oi 
(ante,  p.  220).  The  captors  of  Musidorus  and 
Pamela  have  not  heard  the  news  that  the  king  is 
dead.  Returning  with  their  captives  (IV.  432) 
they  are  met  by  a  troop  of  horsemen  "  marvelling 
who  they  were  that  in  such  a  general  mourning, 
durst  sing  joyfull  tunes,  and  in  so  publique  a 
ruine  weare  the  lawrell  token  of  victory  [cf. 
yEth.,  VI.  viii,  and  A.  T.,  Ill,  x,  as  above,  for 
antithesis  of  mourning  and  rejoicing].  And  that 
which  seemed  strangest,  they  might  see  two  among 
them  unarmed  like  prisoners,  but  riding  like  Cap- 
taines."  Heliodorus  furnishes  this  last  antithesis 
(^th.,  I.  iv).  Thyamis  having  captured  Thea- 
genes  and  Chariclea  treats  them  with  deference 
(U  13-14) :  "hee,  who  was  their  maister,  waited 
upon  them,  and  he  who  tooke  them  prysoners,  was 
content  to  serve  them."  Sidney  uses  it  again 
when  Gynecia  has  difficulty  in  persuading  the 
shepherds  to  make  her  their  prisoner  for  the 
supposed  murder  of  the  King  (IV.  414).  They 
hesitated  "  till  she  was  faine  to  lead  them,  with 


32  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

a  very  strange  spectacle,  either  that  a  Princesses 
should  be  in  the  hands  of  shepherds,  or  a  pris- 
oner should  direct  her  guardians." 

Musidorus  seeing  Pyrocles  taken  by  pirates  ex- 
claims (Li,  5  v.) :  "Alas  .  .  .  deere  Pyrocles  shall 
that  bodie  of  thine  be  enchayned?  shall  those 
victorious  handes  of  thine  be  commaunded  to 
base  offices?  Shall  vertue  become  a  slave  to  those 
that  be  slaves  to  viciousness?  "  The  original  may 
be  either  JEth.,  V.  ii ;  U  126 :  "Art  thou  [Thea- 
genes]  .  .  .  bounde,  which  has  a  free  minde 
.  .  .?"  (cf.  also  JEth.,  I.  xxix;  II.  iv),  or  A.  T., 
III.  xvi:  "Shalt  thou  (Leucippe)  pure  as  thou 
art,  be  food  for  the  most  impure  ?  "  Sidney  em- 
ploys it  again.  Embarrassed  by  the  peculiar  con- 
straints of  his  position  towards  the  royal  family, 
Pyrocles  exclaims  (II.  xvi,  173)  :  "  Alas,  incom- 
parable Philoclea,  thou  ever  seest  me,  but  dost 
never  see  me  as  I  am :;  thou  hearest  willingly  all 
that  I  dare  say,  and  I  dare  not  say  that  which 
were  most  fit  for  thee  to  heare.  Alas,  whoever 
but  I  was  imprisoned  in  liber  tie,  and  banished 
being  still  present?"  The  last  antithesis  is  from 
Achilles  Tatius.  The  gnat  in  the  fable  (A.  T., 
II.  xxii)  :  iraptov  ov  Trdpeijjii;  Clitophon's  letter 
(A.  T.,  V.  xx )  :  ae  irapovaav  o>5  aTroStjfjLova-av  opw. 
Musidorus  blames  the  storm  for  not  ending  his 
life,  but  letting  him  live  to  suffer  the  pains  of 
love  (Arc.,  II.  iii,  109) :  "  O  cruell  winds  in  your 
unconsiderate  rages,  why  either  beganne  you  this 
furie,  or  why  did  you  not  end  it  in  his  end  ?  But 
your  cruelty  was  such,  as  you  would  spare  his 
life  for  many  death  full  torments."  In  the  same 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  363 

way  Clitophon  (A.  T.,  III.  x),  apostrophizing 
the  sea,  exclaims  :  "  I  blame  your  kindness  ;  in 
saving  us  you  have  rather  killed  us." 

Achilles  Tatius's  mannerism  of  attributing 
mixed  or  conflicting  emotions,  especially  as  shown 
by  persons  represented  in  a  painting  (A.  T.,  III. 
vii,  viii;  V.  iii)  gives  Sidney  the  antithesis  he 
needs  for  his  description  of  the  pictures  in  Ka- 
lander's  garden  house  (Arc.,  I.  iii,  10)  :  "  There 
was  Diana  when  Act  aeon  sawe  her  bathing,  in 
whose  cheekes  the  painter  had  set  such  a  colour, 
as  was  mi.vt  betweene  shame  and  disdaine  :  &  one 
of  her  foolish  Nymphes,  who,  weeping  and  withal 
lowring,  one  might  see  the  workman  meant  to  set 
forth  teares  of  anger."  Again  (Arc.,  I.  i,  2)  : 
Urania  "  because  of  her  parting  [bore]  much 
sorrow  in  her  eyes,  the  lightsomenes  whereof  had 
yet  so  natural  a  cherefulnesse,  as  it  made  even 
sorrow  seem  to  smile."  To  this  last  passage  the 
exact  parallel  is  in  A.  T.,  VI.  vii  :  ra  Be  Sdfcpva 


In  Clitophon's  garden  (A.  T.,  I.  xv)  "the  tree 
was  a  support  to  the  vine,  and  the  vine  was  a 
garland  to  the  tree."  In  Kalander's  garden  (Arc., 
I.  iii.,  9v.)  there  were  beds  of  flowers  under  the 
trees,  so  that  "  the  trees  were  to  them  a  Pavilion, 
and  they  to  the  trees  a  mosaical  floore."  Leu- 
cippe  singing  the  praises  of  the  rose  (A.  T.,  II. 
i)  calls  it  "  the  blush  of  the  meadow."  Sidney  in 
describing  the  meadow  where  the  shepherds' 
games  were  to  be  held  (Arc.,  I.  xix,  81)  says 
"  the  Roses  added  such  a  ruddy  shew  unto  it,  as 
though  the  field  were  bashfull  of  his  owne 
beautie." 


364  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Sidney's  paraphrase  here  of  the  one  word 
"  blush  "  into  a  conceit  about  the  meadow's  bash- 
fulness,  is  typical  of  the  freedom  with  which  he 
treats  his  borrowings.  In  the  foregoing  examples 
it  can  hardly  have  escaped  notice  that  he  fre- 
quently imbeds  the  borrowed  antithesis  among 
antitheses  of  his  own  conceived  in  the  same  spirit. 
Elsewhere  he  shows  abundantly  that  he  has 
learned  the  trick;  so  that  he  infuses  into  the 
whole  "Arcadia"  a  subtle  flavor  of  Greek  Ro- 
mance, often  without  borrowing  any  particular 
passage.  For  example,  Pyrocles  and  Musidorus 
nobly  contend  (II.  viii,  136)  as  to  which  shall  die 
to  save  the  other.37  At  length,  "  in  this  notable 
contention,  (where  the  conquest  must  be  the  con- 
querors destruction,  and  safetie  the  punishment  of 
the  conquered),  Musidorus  preuayled."  Again, 
in  the  battle  between  Amphialus  and  the  royal 
army,  many  horses  were  killed  (II.  vii,  268)  : 
"  Some  lay  uppon  their  Lordes,  and  in  death  had 
the  honour  to  be  borne  by  them,  who  in  life  they 
had  borne.  The  earth  it  selfe  (woont  to  be  a 
buriall  of  men)  was  now  (as  it  were)  buried  with 
men:  so  was  the  face  thereof  hidden  with  dead 
bodies."  Again,  Pyrocles  complains  (II.  i, 
IO2V.)  :  "To  her  whom  I  would  be  knowne  to 
[viz.  Philoclea]  I  Hue  in  darknesse:  and  to  her 
[viz.  Gynecia]  am  revealed,  from  whom  I  would 
be  most  secreat."  Basilius  in  the  course  of  the 

87  The  same  motif  again  in  the  trial  scene  (V.  480-481). 
It  is  not  in  the  Greek  Romances  preserved  to  us,  but  came 
to  Sidney,  perhaps,  from  Boccaccio's  Tito  and  Gisippo 
(Dec.,  X.  8)  and  so,  mediately,  through  the  "  Legend  of 
Two  Friends,"  from  a  lost  Greek  Romance.  (Cf.  ante,  p. 
358  ff.) 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  365 

siege  of  Amphialus's  castle  digs  trenches  leading 
to  forts  (III.  xi,  285)  "in  such  sort,  as  it  was  a 
prettie  consideration  in  the  discipline  of  warre, 
to  see  building  used  for  the  instrument  of  mine, 
and  the  assayler  entrenched  as  if  he  were  be- 
sieged." The  remnant  of  the  rebels  having  taken 
Musidorus  with  Pamela  (IV.  428),  "All  resolved 
to  kill  him,  but  now  onely  considering  what  maner 
of  terrible  death  they  should  inuent  for  him. 
Thus  was  a  while  the  agreement  of  his  slaying 
broken  by  disagreement  of  the  maner  of  it;  and 
extremity  of  cruelty  grew  for  a  time  to  be  the 
stop  of  cruelty."  When  Musidorus  has  been  re- 
vived by  the  shepherds  (I.  i,  3v.)  he  tries  to 
throw  himself  into  the  sea  again  in  order  not  to 
survive  Pyrocles :  "  — a  strange  sight  to  the  shep- 
heards,  to  whom  it  seemed  that,  before,  being  in 
appearance  dead  had  yet  saved  his  life,  and  now, 
camming  to  his  life  shoulde  be  a  cause  to  procure 
his  death." 

The  great  frequency  of  such  passages38  pro- 
duces, as  has  been  said,  an  effect  of  rhetorical 
strain  throughout,  and  in  the  reader's  total  im- 
pression quite  eclipses  the  other  characteristics 
of  Sidney's  style.  Once  more  the  reader  receives 
the  impression  that  Sidney  has  learned  the  very 
accent  of  Greek  Romance;  once  more  he  feels 
that  Sidney  has  deliberately  written  Greek  Ro- 
mance in  English. 

w  Others  of  the  same  sort:  I.  ii,  7;  I.  iii,  lov. ;  I.  vi, 
27-27V. ;  I.  vii,  3ov. ;  I.  x,  42V. ;  I.  xvi,  70;  II.  iv,  Ii6v. ; 
II.  xiii,  160;  II.  xxv,  2I3-2I3V. ;  III.  viii,  26QV. ;  III.  xviii, 
SXS-S'Sv.  ("a  braue  raggednesse,  and  a  riche  povertie 
...  a  disgraced  handsomnesse,  and'  a  new  oldnes"),  III. 
379,  V.  450-1. 


$66  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

And  this  is  the  abiding  impression.  The  sepa- 
rate conclusions  reached  upon  analysis  of  the 
"Arcadia"  into  its  elements  are  confirmed  upon 
a  retrospect  of  the  whole.  Its  material  in  plot 
and  character,  however  diffuse  and  various,  is 
held  firmly  within  the  Heliodorean  frame;  its 
descriptive  matter  is  strongly  flavored  with  the 
Greek  Romance  e«<£/>acn9;  its  structure  has  been 
deliberately  recast  in  the  mould  of  Heliodorus ; 
its  style  speaks  with  the  voice  of  the  Greek  Ro- 
mancers. Sidney  has  domesticated  the  genre. 


(To  pp.  312,  313)  Heliodorus's  story  of  Calasiris  and 
his  sons  looks  like  a  degenerate  version  of  the  myth  of 
Oedipus,  a  version  with  a  happy  ending  as  far  as  the  sons 
are  concerned.  If  Calasiris  is  Oedipus  travestied,  we  have 
a  remarkable  tradition,  from  Sophocles  or  earlier,  through 
Heliodorus  and  Sidney,  to  Shakespeare.  Not  without 
deliberate  intent,  we  feel,  did  Shakespeare  choose  this 
descendant  of  the  story  of  Oedipus  as  a  foil  to  the  story 
of  that  other  Oedipus,  King  Lear. 

(To  p.  360)  The  antithesis  "  Banquet  turns  to  Battle  " 
also  seems  to  be  the  subject  of  a  remarkable  tradition. 
Heliodorus's  immediate  source  may  well  have  been  Ovid 
(Met.  XII.  222-244),  who  also  emphasizes  the  mingling  of 
blood  with  wine,  and  the  use  of  the  wine-jars  as  missiles. 
Now  it  was  at  the  wedding  of  Pirithous  and  Hippodamia 
that  this  sudden  turn  occurred,  the  misconduct  of  the 
Centaurs  changing  the  feast  into  a  fight.  It  is  thus  sug- 
gested that  the  antithesis  and  its  concomitant  details  are 
conventions  associated  with  the  treatment  of  the  combat 
between  the  Centaurs  and  the  Lapithae ;  and,  sure  enough, 
in  the  representation  of  this  combat  on  the  metopes  of  the 
Parthenon,  a  Centaur  appears  in  the  act  of  hurling  a 
wine-jar.  We  may  reasonably  suppose  that  the  motif  was 
often  repeated  in  subsequent  sculpture,  gem-engraving,  vase- 
painting,  or  wall-painting,  if  not  in  Alexandrian  pictorial 
poetry.  Thus  it  would  reach  Ovid,  and,  through  him, 
Heliodorus,  Sidney,  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  ("  Ivanhoe,"  ch. 
xli).  Once  more,  the  tradition  handed  on  to  modern  times 
by  Greek  Romance  dates  bacfc  to  a  period  of  pure  classicism. 


CHAPTER   III 

ROBERT  GREENE 

The  popular  request  for  rapid  work  from 
Greene's  pen,  and  the  versatility  of  his  own  imi- 
tative talent  for  story-telling,  sent  him  to  many 
sources  and  subjected  him  to  many  influences. 
One  of  the  most  widely-read  of  the  writers  of 
his  time,  he  was  always  in  the  fashion  of  the 
moment.  He  would,  as  Nash  tells  us,1  "yark 
up  "  a  pamphlet  "  in  a  night  and  a  day  "  to  meet  a 
publisher's  demand  for  a  "best  seller";  and  he 
was  nothing  if  not  up  to  date.  "  Euphues  "  ap- 
peared in  1578  and  '79,  and  in  1580  Greene  was 
ready  with  "  Mamillia"  (licensed  1580;  published 
1 583 ) ,  which  out-Euphuizes  "  Euphues."  Thence- 
forth the  Euphuistic  strain  ran  through  all  his 
books  with  greater  or  less  strength,  till  he  ex- 
cluded it  abruptly  and  consciously  from  his 
"  Conny  Catching  "  series  and  from  "  The  Black 
Bookes  Messenger."  His  love  of  stylistic  tinsel 
enabled  him  to  appropriate  easily  the  character- 
istics of  Euphuism,  and  sometimes,  in  "  Carde  of 
Fancie,"  for  instance,  to  add  absurdities  of  his 
own.  As  with  "Euphues,"  so  with  Sidney's 
"Arcadia."  By  the  time  the  "Arcadia"  in 
manuscript  had  made  its  way  out  of  Sidney's  own 
court  circle  into  the  Universities  and  the  City 

1 "  Foure  Letters  Confuted,"  Works,  ed.  Grosart,  II.  221  ; 
ed.  McKerrow,  I.  287. 

367 


368  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

(that  is,  into  the  circle  of  Greene's  readers)  and 
had  created  a  demand  for  its  like,  Greene  was 
prepared  to  meet  the  demand.  "  Menaphon,"  pub- 
lished 1589,  and  "Philomela,"  published  1592, 
but,  he  says  (Epistle  Dedicatory,  p.  109),  "writ- 
ten long  since,"  are  his  chief  tributes  to  its  popu- 
larity; the  first  satisfying  the  demand  raised  by 
the  manuscript,  the  second  that  raised  by  the  first 
edition  (1590).  Apart  from  the  influence  of  the 
"Arcadia,"  Greene's  own  predilection  for  lowly 
and  rural  life  would  have  sufficed  to  make  him 
fall  in  with  the  pastoral  taste  of  his  time ;  but  his 
natural  tendency  toward  pastoral  was  strength- 
ened by  Sidney's  work,  and,  like  Sidney,  he  used 
his  pastoral  not  as  an  independent  tale,  but 
either  as  an  ornament  to  some  inclusive  story  or 
or  as  a  solvent  for  the  complexities  and  a  remedy 
for  the  troubles  which  afflict  his  personages  in 
city  or  court.  This  scene  of  courtly  people  in 
the  country  belongs  to  the  mediaeval  stock  of 
literary  material  quite  as  much  as  to  that  of  the 
Renaissance ;  and  is  one  of  many  mediaeval 
motifs  in  Greene.  His  virtuous  shepherdess 
sends  her  highborn  wooers  about  their  business 
like  any  pastorela;2  into  a  story  of  Roman  times 
he  inserts  the  mediaeval  rivalry  of  Knight  and 
Clerk  ;3  several  "situations"  he  takes  from  "Huon 
of  Bordeaux  "  ;4  now  and  again  he  uses  the  con- 

*  "  Francescos  Fortunes"  (VIII),  184  ff,  esp.  193—6:  The 
Host's  Tale. 

"'Tullies  Loue"  (VII). 

* "  Arbasto  "  (III):  Captor's  daughter  falls  in  love  with 
captive  and  releases  him.  "  Carde  of  Fancie  "  (IV) :  Cap- 
tive released  fights  gigantic  enemy  of  captor,  and  gains 
captor's  daughter  to  wife. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  369 

ventional  Vision-form  of  the  Middle  Ages,8  once 
together  with  the  usual  allegory  of  a  garden,  its 
variety  of  trees  and  birds,  and  Dame  Venus  stand- 
ing there;6  but  usually  in  combination  with  a 
debat.1  So  Greene  ministered  to  the  lingering 
mediaeval  taste  of  Elizabethan  readers.  And 
here  once  more  he  was  on  common  ground  be- 
tween the  Middle  Ages  and  the  Renaissance: 
for,  regarded  as  a  social  diversion,  the  debat 
becomes  the  dubbio.  The  popularity  of  this 
Italian  form  was  enhanced  by  the  popularity  of 
"  Euphues,"  which  made  such  large  use  of  it  ; 
and  Greene  employed  it,  too,  but  as  a  frame  for 
narrative,  which,  after  all,  is  his  specialty.  Many 
of  his  stories  are  told  in  social  gatherings  to 
illustrate  some  point  in  morals  or  love  raised  in 
a  dubbio  or  dialogue.8  He  thus  gave  an  edifying 
frame  to  novelle  which  are  only  incidentally 
edifying  in  themselves.  The  demand  of  Puritan- 
ism for  stories  that  should  be  edifying  in  them- 
selves he  satisfied  by  turning  into  novella-form 
the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son,9  and  the  apocry- 
phal book  of  Susanna — the  latter  twice.10  His 
readers,  in  fact,  must  have  the  novella,  which  by 

8 "Quip  for  an  Vpstart  Courtier"  (XI);  "Greenes  Vis- 
ion" (XII);  "  Orpharion "  (XII);  "  Carde  of  Fancie" 
(IV),  74-6  (Allegorical  Dream). 

•"Mamillia"   (II),  275. 

7  So  in  all  the  cases  cited  in  notes  4  and  5  (supra). 
Greene  uses  a  debat  without  a  vision,  in  "  Debate  between 
Folly  and  Love"  (IV),  and  "  Planetomachia  "  (V). 

8 "  Morando "  (III);  "Censure"  (VI);  "Penelopes 
Web"  (V);  "  Perimedes "  (VII);  "Mourning  Garment" 
(IX);  "Farewell  to  Folly"  (IX);  and  elsewhere. 

'"Mourning  Garment"   (IX). 

10  "  Mirrour  of  Modestie  "  (III)  ;  "  Francescos  Fortunes  '" 
(VIII). 

25 


37<>  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

means  of  its  single  "  situation,"  its  emphasis  upon 
what  happened,  its  want  of  profound  character- 
ization, its  want  of  complication  in  plot,  and  its 
simple  setting,  made  a  broad  popular  appeal. 
It  is  for  these  same  reasons  that  the  novella  fell 
within  Greene's  powers.  He,  too,  lacked  "  la 
longue  haleine  " ;  he  could  never  manage  a  plot  of 
any  considerable  length  or  complication ;  his  char- 
acterization was  nearly  always  shallow  and  un- 
motived ;  and  he  was  almost  wholly  destitute 
of  the  feeling  for  "background."  Accordingly, 
Italian  novelle  were  among  his  chief  sources ;  and 
in  time  he  learned  from  them  how  to  make  very 
good  novelle  of  his  own.11 

Meanwhile  he  borrowed  novelle,  mainly  from 
Boccaccio;  and  it  is  interesting  to  observe  what 
he  borrowed.  Not  counting  allusions  and  minor 
resemblances,  there  are  two  tales  which  Greene 
took  over  bodily  from  the  Decameron,  with  slight 
changes ;  and  a  well-rounded  incident,  complete  in 
itself,  which  he  took  from  a  third  tale  and  em- 
bodied as  an  incident  in  a  story  of  his  own.11* 
These,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  are  his  only  borrow- 
ings from  the  Decameron,  and  every  one  of 
these  is,  in  all  probability,  like  the  plot  of 
"Euphues,"  based  upon  some  lost  Greek  Ro- 
mance. 

The  first  is  Decam.,  II.  6,  which  Greene  used 
as  the  first  story  in  "  Perimedes  "  (VII.)  23-42. 
The  following  is  a  summary  of  his  version. 

11 E.  g., Chaucer's  story  of  Tomkins  and  Kate,  in  "Greenes 
Vision"  (XII),  and  Roberto's  story  of  the  Farmer  Bride- 
groom, in  "  Groats  ,-orth  "  (XII). 

"*  Koeppel,  pp.  52-54. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  371 

Mariana  is  the  wife  of  Prestines,  formerly  gover- 
nor of  Tyre,  but  now  the  prisoner  of  Voltarus,  King 
of  Sidon.  Escaping  from  her  husband's  enemy,  she 
is  wrecked  on  the  shore  of  Decapolis,  while  her  sons 
are  carried  off  by  pirates.  She  lives  in  a  cave, 
whither  chance  brings  the  Despot  of  Decapolis  and 
his  wife.  She  tells  her  story  and  is  taken  to  live 
with  them.  The  sons  and  their  nurse  are  sold  by 
the  pirates  to  Lamoraq,  governor  of  Japhet  and 
brother  to  the  Despot  of  Decapolis.  The  elder  es- 
capes, comes  at  length  to  Decapolis,  enters  the 
Despot's  service,  and  gets  his  daughter  with  child. 
Thrown  into  prison,  he  hears  that  Voltarus  is  being 
attacked,  and  exclaims  upon  his  hard  fate  in  not 
being  able  to  help  against  his  father's  enemy.  The 
jailor  overhears  him  and  gets  his  story,  which  he 
tells  to  the  Despot.  Upon  confirmation  of  the  story 
the  young  people  are  married;  the  younger  son,  sent 
for  from  Japhet,  is  likewise  married  to  the  daughter 
of  the  Governor;  and  Voltarus  having  been  over- 
thrown and  Prestines  restored,  his  wife  and  his  sons 
and  their  wives  rejoin  him  at  Tyre. 

This  is,  substantially,  Boccaccio's  story  of 
"  Madonna  Beritola  Caracciola,  moglie  di  Ar- 
righetto  Capece  (chi  sotto  il  re  Manfredi  fu  stato 
governatore  di  Sicilia  ma  fu  fatto  prigioniere  dal 
re  Carlo)."  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  point  to 
the  familiar  marks  of  Greek  Romance.  In  the 
original  there  is  an  additional  motif,  which  looks 
like  a  tortured  Byzantine  imitation  of  "  Daphnis 
and  Chloe."  In  her  loneliness  on  the  desert 
shore,  Madonna  Beritola  finds  two  nezv-born  kids, 
which  she  nurses.  The  Governor  (Greene's  Des- 
pot) and  his  wife  come  to  hunt;  and  his  dogs 
chase  the  kids,  who  flee  to  their  foster-mother 


372  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

and  thus  lead  to  her  rescue.  This  is  apparently 
an  inversion  and  a  perversion  of  Longus's  motifs: 
"she-goat  gives  suck  to  human  infant,  and  by 
retiring  to  place  where  infant  lies,  brings  about 
its  rescue ;  goats  are  chased  by  hounds."  Greene 
omits  it,  merely  saying  that  when  Mariana  was 
found,  she  had  with  her  a  fawn  which  she  had 
nursed  up;  but  he  leaves  all  the  other  evidences 
that  the  tale  is  based  on  Greek  Romance.  Per- 
haps an  instinctive  feeling  that  it  is  in  this  genre 
makes  him  change  its  locus  to  Tyre  and  Sidon, 
etc.,  and  reunite  the  parents  and  the  two  newly 
married  couples  at  Tyre,  in  reminiscence  of  the 
end  of  "  Clitophon  and  Leucippe."  That  Boc- 
caccio likewise  classified  the  tale  correctly  is 
shown  by  his  placing  it  in  the  Second  Day,  among 
stories  of  evil  Fortune  turning  to  good,  and  by 
his  introducing  it  individually  with  remarks  upon 
the  beneficial  effect  of  hearing  tales  about  the 
vicissitudes  of  Fortune.  Landau  ("Quellen,"  p. 
296)  after  mentioning  the  stock  motifs  of  the 
Greek  Romances,  adds  "  mit  denen  [d.  h.  mit  den 
griechischen  Romanen]  Boccaccio's  Novellen  von 
den  drei  Schwestern  und  ihren  Liebhabern  (IV. 
3),  von  Pietro  Boccamazza  (V.  3)  and  von  der 
Familie  Capece  (II.  6)  verwandt  sind." 

Greene's  next  borrowing  from  Boccaccio  is  the 
Second  Tale  in  "  Perimedes  "  (VII.),  47-55: 

On  the  island  of  Lipari,  Constance  and  Alcimedes 
fall  in  love,  but  cannot  wed  because  of  his  poverty. 
Desperately  resolved  to  make  his  fortune,  he  becomes 
a  corsair,  but  is  taken  by  the  Saracens  and  carried 
to  Tunis.  Rumor  reports  that  he  has  been  drowned. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  373 

Constance  seeking  death  in  like  manner  sets  herself 
adrift  in  a  small  boat,  but  is  wafted  to  the  Barbary 
Coast,  and  makes  her  way  in  time  to  the  city  where, 
unknown  to  her,  her  lover  is  confined.  Now  a  rebel- 
lious nobleman  lays  claim  to  the  kingdom  of  Tunis, 
and  Alcimedes  in  prison  offers  the  King  his  services 
as  general.  These  are  accepted,  and  he  defeats  the 
rebel  and  is  made  a  Duke.  When  the  fame  of  this 
stroke  of  fortune  brings  Constance  the  news  that  he 
is  alive,  she  discovers  herself  to  him,  and  they  are 
married. 

This,  with  unimportant  changes,  is  Boccaccio's 
tale  of  Martuccio  Gomito  and  Gostanza  (Decam., 
V.  2).  The  story  has  a  mediaeval  tinge  over- 
lying its  probable  Greek  origiri;  and  the  motif 
"  released  prisoner  assists  his  captor  against  an 
enemy,"  is  found  in  "  Huon  of  Bordeaux,"  as 
well  as  in  the  "  Babylonica  "  of  lamblichus  (ch. 
XX).12  The  stories  of  the  Fifth  Day,  like  those 
of  the  Second,  concern  lovers  who  have  met  good 
fortune  after  ill ;  and  Fortune  is  active  through- 
out this  tale. 

The  flavor  of  Greek  Romance  is  strongest,  per- 
haps, in  the  story  of  which  Greene  borrows  the 
first  incident — the  story  of  Cimone  and  Efigenia 
(Decam.,  V.  i)  : 

Cimone,  a  clownish  youth  of  Cyprus,  beholding 
Efigenia  asleep  on  the  grass,  is  by  love  of  her  trans- 
formed into  an  accomplished  gentleman.  As  she  is 
betrothed  to  a  Rhodian,  Cimone  cannot  gain  her 

"Greene  uses  it  again  in  "  Carde  of  Fancie  "  (IV),  164, 
166,  191.  Neither  Greene  nor  Boccaccio  could  have  taken 
it  from  lamblichus  (see  table,  ante,  p.  8  ff.),  unless,  as  is 
very  unlikely,  they  saw  a  Ms.  of  Photius. 


374  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

hand  by  peaceful  means.  When  she  is  sailing  to  be 
married  in  Rhodes,  he  attacks  her  ship,  steals  her 
away,  and  after  several  changes  of  Fortune  (which 
constitute  the  bulk  of  the  story),  marries  her. 

Boccaccio  says  that  the  story  is  "si  come  noi 
nelle  antiche  istorie  de'  Cipriani  abbiamo  gia 
letto";  and  Rohde  (pp.  538-542)  plausibly  con- 
jectures that  it  comes  from  a  lost  Greek  Romance, 
perhaps  called  the  "  Cypriaca."  In  any  case  it 
bears  the  unmistakable  stamp  of  its  kind ;  and 
we  actually  possess,  in  the  episode  of  Callisthenes 
and  Calligone  (A.  T.,  II.  xviii;  VIII.  xvii),  the 
same  combination —  though  in  reverse  order — of 
transformation  by  love  with  piratical  abduction 
of  the  beloved.  Greene  uses  only  the  first  of 
these  motifs — transformation  by  love13  for  his 
episode  of  Fabius  and  Terentia,  in  "Tullies 
Loue "  (VII.),  185-9;  and  he  accounts  for 
Fabius's  change  of  character  by  a  literal  trans- 
lation of  Boccaccio's  corresponding  account  of 
Cimone's  change:  "Ye  high  vertues  of  the 
heauens  infused  into  this  noble  breast,  were  im- 
prisoned by  ye  enuious  wrath  of  Fortune,  within 
some  narrowe  corner  of  his  heart,  whose  bandes 
went  asunder  by  loue,  as  a  Lord  to[o]  mightie 
for  fortune."  Here  Love  conquers  envious  For- 
tune, but  in  the  remainder  of  the  story  Fortune  is 
said  to  be,  and  is,  busy  at  every  turn. 

Possibly  unconscious  of  what  he  was  choos- 
ing, Greene  has  thus  chosen  from  the  Decameron 

18  He  has  used  it  again  in  "Card*  of  Fancie  "  (IV),  48- 
49.  He  alludes  by  name  to  "  Boccaccio  "  and  his  story  of 
"Chimon"  in  "  Morando  "  (III),  91. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  375 

only  Greek  Romance  material,  and  has  used  it 
almost  exactly  as  he  found  it.  Indeed,  his  talent 
in  general  has  a  distinct  affinity  to  Greek  Ro- 
mance. His  unresisted  tendency  towards  the 
pastoral  lays  him  open  to  the  influence  of 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe."  His  peculiar  combination 
of  a  love  of  pure  plot, — of  events  for  the  sake 
of  events,  regardless  of  their  spring  in  character 
and  of  their  reaction  upon  character — his  com- 
bination of  such  a  love  of  plot  with  a  weak  sense 
of  motive  and  causal  nexus,  strongly  inclines  him 
to  employ  Fortune  as  the  mover  of  his  plot.  His 
pleasure  in  gaudy  stylistic  ornament  exposes  him 
to  the  infection  not  only  of  Euphuism,  but  of 
the  rhetorical  diseases  inherent  in  the  style  of 
Achilles  Tatius.  Moreover,  from  the  great  spec- 
tacular ensemble  scenes  so  frequent  in  Helio- 
dorus,  he  learns  how  to  turn  his  rhetoric  to  ac- 
count, in  long  harangues  and  arguments,  and  in 
analysis  of  the  emotions  and  facial  expressions  of 
the  spectators.  So  that,  amid  Greene's  variety  of 
sources,  it  would  be  rather  strange  if  he  had  not 
drawn  upon  Greek  Romance. 

His  indebtedness  is  primary  as  well  as  second- 
ary. As  has  been  seen,  Achilles  Tatius  was  ac- 
cessible to  him  in  Latin,  Italian,  and  French 
translations,  while  Heliodorus  and  Longus  may 
fairly  be  said  to  have  become  current  English  fic- 
tion during  the  time  of  his  literary  activity 
(1580-1592).  In  fact,  as  with  "Euphues"  and 
the  "Arcadia,"  so  with  the  Greek  Romances, 
Greene's  versatility  and  timeliness  serve  him  well. 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe  "  in  Day's  version,  and  the 


THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 


"^Ethiopica"  in  Underdowne's  second  or  third 
edition,  come  out  in  1587;  and  in  1588,  Greene  is 
on  the  spot  with  his  best  known  story,  "  Pan- 
dosto"  ("Dorastus  and  Fawnia")  which  is  full 
of  matter  from  both  of  them,  and  which  draws 
somewhat  upon  Achilles  Tatius  as  well.  "  Pan- 
dosto"  thus  possesses  a  two-  fold  interest  —  first, 
and  chiefly,  as  the  main  source  of  "  The  Winter's 
Tale";  secondly,  as  exhibiting  with  the  greatest 
fulness  the  influence  of  the  Greek  Romances  upon 
Greene.  Under  both  these  aspects  it  will  later  be 
treated  in  detail,  together  with  "  Menaphon,"  each 
integrally  as  well  as  topically  ;  for  each  is  a  work 
whose  various  topics  and  sources  should  be  as- 
sembled in  order  that  justice  may  be  done  to  the 
whole.  Evidence  of  the  influence  of  the  Greek 
Romances  upon  Greene's  other  works  will  be 
arranged  not  according  to  the  works  in  which  it 
may  occur,  but  partly  according  to  its  contents, 
that  is,  topically  (as  in  the  treatment  of  the 
Greek  Romances  themselves  in  Part  First  of  the 
present  study),  and  partly  according  to  its  sources 
among  the  Greek  Romances. 

Despite  Greene's  leaning  toward  the  pastoral, 
and  fondness  for  pathetic  ensemble-scenes,  it  is 
Achilles  Tatius  who  affects  him  at  the  largest 
number  of  points,  and  is  his  first  and  latest  love. 
Greene  is  particularly  predisposed  to  take  what 
Achilles  Tatius  can  give.  As  a  rhetorician,  he 
shares  the  Renaissance  fondness  for  antithesis 
and  paradox.  His  only  method  of  characteriza- 
tion is  an  antithetical  soliloquy,  dialogue,  or  letter 
by  his  personages,  or  antithetical  comment  by 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE  FICTION  377 

himself.  He  is  not,  of  course,  interested  in  char- 
acter, but  such  characterization  as  he  does  attempt 
resolves  itself  thus  into  an  analysis  of  "  conflict- 
ing emotions."14  The  mania  for  antithesis  viti- 
ates his  "psychology"  by  breaking  up  character 
into  striving  opposites.  It  vitiates  both  his  style 
and  the  speech  of  his  personages  by  turning  both 
into  a  Euphuistic  balancing  of  conceits  and  argu- 
ments. Wit  and  Will ;  Virtue  and  Fortune ;  Na- 
ture and  Fortune;  Nature  and  Necessity;  Fancy 
and  the  Fates ;  Love  and  Destiny ;  Nature  and 
Nurture;  Desire  and  Despair;  Beauty  and 
Bounty ;  Beauty  and  Virtue ;  the  Sore  and  the 
Salve ;  Outward  Favor  and  Inward  Valor ;  Rea- 
son and  Passion ;  Bliss  and  Bale ;  Hand  and 
Heart;  Weal  and  Woe;  Excellence,  not  Birth; 
Wit  before  Wealth;  Mirth  and  Mourning;  Love 
and  Law; — these  and  a  hundred  other  allitera- 
tive couples  are  forever  see-sawing  through  his 
pages.18  Like  Achilles  Tatius,  he  several  times 
employs  the  device  of  rivalry;16  he  calls  attention 
to  a  surprising  event  by  means  of  the  familiar 
jrapa  8o£ay17;  and  he  gives  to  his  "unnatural 

14  Conflicting  Emotions:  "  Carde  of  Fancie "  (IV),  55, 
180,  190;  "  Alcida "  (IX),  94  (Hope  vs.  Fear);  "Philo- 
mela" (XI),  203,  and  many  other  passages. 

15"Mamillia"  (II),  17,  19,  79,  91,  134,  140;  "  Francescos 
Fortunes"  (VIII),  223,  227,  228;  "Mourning  Garment" 
(IX),  131;  "Farewell"  (IX),  250;  "  Coosnage  "  (X),  6-7; 
"  Blacke  Bookes  Messenger"  (XI),  35:  some  passages  on 
Wit  and  Will  alone.  On  this  cliche,  see  Mr.  Sidney  Lee's 
"Life  of  Shakspeare,"  p.  416  ff. 

18 "  Tullies  Love"  (VII),  106;  "Mourning  Garment" 
(IX),  127;  "Farewell"  (IX),  256. 

""Censure"  (VI),  194:  "  Comming  thither,  contrary  to 
his  expectation  hee  found  that  Time  the  mother  of  muta- 
bilitie,  had  made  a  strange  metamorphosis." 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


natural  philosophy"  the  peculiar  animistic  turn 
which  has  been  observed  in  Achilles  Tatius,18 
and  which  is  not  present  in  Lyly.  It  is  difficult, 
too,  to  resist  the  feeling  —  though  only  a  detailed 
examination  of  the  styles  in  question  can  deter- 
mine its  correctness  —  that  Greene's  homeophony 
is  distinctly  more  elaborate  than  Lyly's,  and  may 
have  had  another  model  besides  "Euphues." 
Such  passages  as  the  following  seem  to  push 
"transverse"  alliteration  further  than  Lyly's 
furthest  reach,  and  to  use  certain  alliterative 
and  assonantal  "  stanza-forms  "  or  "  rhyming 
schemes,"  so  to  speak,  which  he  did  not  attempt. 
"Carde  of  Fancie"  (IV.),  66:  "Wert  thou  of 
late  a  defter  of  Venus,  and  art  thou  now  a  de- 
fender of  vanitie?"  (de  f  er  of  vn 
de  f  er  of  vn). 

ib.,  92.  "  not  his  Barfing  riches,  but  his  renowned 
vertues."  (ntvd  r  ch  s;trnd  vrchs) 
ib.,  46.  "  As  the  ioye  of  her  presence  procureth 
my  delight,  so  the  annoie  of  her  absence  breedeth 
my  despight" 

"  Planetomachia  "  (V.)  73:  "No,  hee  had 
rather  prevent  her  with  untimely  death  then  pre- 
tend such  an  unlikely  ctemande  : 

(pre  en  un  I  ly  de 
pre  en  un  I  ly  de) 

he  would  sooner  consent  to  payn  her  with  some 
hellish  miserie  then  place  her  in  such  a  /tap/ess 

""Arbasto"  (III),  237.  Doralicia's  froward  answer  to 
Arbasto's  letter  :  "  As  by  instinct  of  nature  there  is  a  se- 
crete hate  between  the  vine  and  the  cabash,  between  the 
boxe  and  the  goord,  and  between  the  iron  and  ye  Thea- 
mides,  so  in  my  mind  I  feel  a  secret  grudge  between  Ar- 
basto  and  Doralicia."  Cf.  A.  T.,  I.  xvii,  xviii  ;  ante,  p.  210. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE  FICTION  379 

Carriage."     (pa     her     su     hi     m  r 
p  a    her    su    hi    m  r). 

The  resemblance  to  Antike  Kunstprosa  may  be 
only  accidental;  Greene  could  not  have  seen  the 
original  Greek  of  Achilles  Tatius 'in  print,  and 
it  is  unlikely  that  he  saw  it  in  Ms.  I  give  the 
impression  as  such. 

Certainly  not  accidental,  however,  is  the  fact 
that  Greene  shares  with  Achilles  Tatius  the  same 
faults  in  narrative  technique.  "  Arbasto "  con- 
sists of  a  "  frame-tale  "  about  the  narrator's  ship- 
wreck, and  an  inner  tale — really  the  substance  of 
the  whole — told  by  Arbasto  to  the  narrator. 
Both  are  related  in  the  first  person.  But  this 
plan  is  violated,  first  by  Arbasto's  report  of  the 
feelings  and  soliloquies  of  other  persons  (III. 
195-8,  215-217,  217,  223-226,  229,  245-248)  ; 
next  by  his  lapses  into  the  third  person  when  he 
speaks  of  himself  (227)  ;  finally  by  the  failure 
of  the  author,  the  supposed  narrator  of  the 
frame-tale,  to  recur  to  it  when  Arbasto's  story  is 
done.  He  does  not  "  envelop "  Arbasto's  story 
at  the  end,  as  he  does  at  the  beginning,  by  resum- 
ing the  account  of  himself.  As  will  shortly  ap- 
pear,19 the  resemblance  to  "  Clitophon  and  Leu- 
cippe  "20  is  more  than  accidental.  Finally,  Greene 
the  rhetorician  never  spares  his  readers  a  speech 
if  he  can  help  it.  In  "Garde  of  Fancie "  (IV.) 
the  two  hostile  kings  harangue  their  respective 
troops  at  length  (174-6).  In  "Penelopes  Web" 
(V.),  81,  "Egistus  Oration  to  the  Lords  of 

19  Post,  p.  393- 

"Ante,  p.  199. 


380  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

Egypt"  is  thrown  into  prominence  by  a  title  of 
its  own.  In  "  Censure  "  (VI.),  224,  "  Cleophanes 
Oration  to  the  Citizens  "  persuades  them  to  admit 
besiegers  to  their  city;  (228-9)  Cimbriana  ex- 
horts her  ladies  to  revenge;  (257-8)  Frontinus 
harangues  his  troops ;  (273)  Roxander  pacifies 
the  people  "  with  this  briefe  Oration " ;  and 
(276)  one  of  the  Senators  seeing  the  soldiers 
careless  and  discouraged,  "  calling  them  all  into 
the  market  made  them  this  oration."  In  "  Peri- 
medes"  (VII.),  52-3,  Alcimedes  repeats  to  the 
King  of  Barbary's  troops  the  speech  of  Frontinus. 
In  "Tullies  Love"  (VII.)  there  is  a  tremendous 
talking-match,  which  ends  with  (213)  "Tullies 
Oration  to  the  Senate."  In  "Farewell"  (IX.), 
345,  Rustico  in  a  speech  rouses  the  citizens 
against  their  besotted  Duke.  In  "  Philomela " 
(XI.)  there  are  no  less  than  three  trial  scenes 
(1646*.,  i86ff.  and  203  ff.),  all  adorned  with 
"  Orations."  All  things,  it  would  seem,  are  pos- 
sible to  Eloquentia.  Greene's  fondness  for 
speechmaking  he  shares  with  his  time,  but  he 
shares  it  too  with  Heliodorus  and  Achilles  Tatius. 

The  occasion  for  all  this  Eloquentia,  the  para- 
doxical or  antithetical  situation  which  gives 
rhetoric  its  opportunity,  is  by  Greene,  as  by  Helio- 
dorus and  Achilles  Tatius,  often  attributed  to 
Fortune,  or  as  by  Longus,  to  Fortune  and  Love. 
"  Fortune  loves  to  bring  about  things  unexpected 
and  things  contrary  to  expectation,"21  and  when 
Greene  speaks  of  her  he  tends  naturally  toward 
antithesis  and  oxymoron,  balance  and  alliteration. 

"Aelian,  "  Var.  Hist.,"  XIII.  33  (quoted  ante,  p.  357,  n.  35.) 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  381 

"  O  Fortune,  how  constant  art  thou  in  thy  in- 
constancie ? "22  In  "Censure"  (VI.),  196,  Mae- 
dyna,  the  faithless  wife  of  Polymestor,  having 
refused  to  return  to  him,  his  nobles  "thought 
their  kinge  happy  that  Fortune  by  ill  fortune  had 
at  hazard  giuen  him  such  good  fortune."  Those 
who  are  down  need  fear  no  fall ;  but  those  in 
high  places  are  especially  subject  to  vicissitude ; 
hence,  in  "  Pandosto  "  (IV.),  249,  Queen  Bellaria 
exclaims  to  herself :  "  How  unfortunate  art  thou, 
because  fortunate."  In  "  Carde  of  Fancie " 
(IV.),  153,  Gwydonius  cries:  "Who  a  late  so 
floated  in  the  flouds  of  felicitie  as  I,  which  now 
by  the  sinister  meanes  of  frowning  Fortune  am 
sowsed  in  the  seas  of  sorrow."  And  Castania 
(ib.,  182):  "Let  froward  fortune  favor  whom 
she  please,  so  I  may  ioy  and  safelie  inioy  my 
onelie  ioy." 

Greene's  subjection  to  the  concept,  nay  to  the 
word,  *'  Fortune,"  far  surpasses  that  of  Achilles 
Tatius.  Greene  is  Fortune's  abject  slave;  he 
suffers  from  lues  fortunae,  or  tychomania,  a  dis- 
ease which  once  having  gripped  its  victim,  blinds 
him  to  the  true  course  of  human  affairs,  and 
renders  him  incapable  of  ever  building  more  than 
a  novella-plot,  or  depicting  a  consistent  character. 
Fortune  has  him  in  thrall.  He  attributes  to  her 
the  plainest  effects  of  a  line  of  causes  already 
begun — effects  which  are  perfectly  calculable  and 
which  exhibit  not  the  slightest  element  of  chance.23 

2J"  Morando "  (III),  127-8;  again  "Penelopes  Web" 
(V),  178. 

13  "  Never  too  Late  "  (VIII),  101.  Francesco  in  the  snares 
of  Infida  has  been  living  riotously.  "  Wallowing  thus  in 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


He  attributes  to  her  the  gifts  which,  according  to 
a  distinction  that  was  one  of  the  commonplaces 
of  mediaeval  and  Renaissance  thought,  really 
came  from  "  Nature."24  He  drags  her  in  at  every 
possible  or  impossible  place,  simply  as  a  cliche, 

the  foldes  of  their  owne  follies,  Fortune  .  .  .  dealt  thus  "  : 
Francesco's  money  gave  out  !  There  was  no  interference 
by  Fortune  —  nothing  but  continued  causation.  In  "  Dispu- 
tation "  (X),  246,  the  reformed  courtesan  says  that  as  a 
young  girl  she  had  many  suitors,  but  "  either  my  fortune  or 
destenie  droue  me  to  a  worser  ende,  for  I  refused  them 
all  "  :  an  act  of  human  choice.  In  "  Carde  of  Fancie  " 
(IV),  134,  "Fortune  .  .  .  brought  it  to  pass"  that  Orlanio 
withheld  his  accustomed  tribute,  and  so  occasioned  a  war. 
But  there  was  nothing  fortuitous  about  it  ;  it  originated  in 
Orlanio's  will.  In  "  Planetomachia  "  (V),  89,  Rodento  and 
Pasylla  having  been  betrothed,  "  Fortune  grudging  at  this 
happy  successe,  crossed  their  sweete  and  delicious  favours 
with  bitter  and  despairing  frowns.  For  Valdracko  (Pa- 
sylla's  father)  .  .  .  began  to  thinke  "  that  this  betrothal 
gave  him  an  opportunity  for  vengeance  upon  the  formerly 
hostile  house  of  Rodento.  But  Valdracko  had  promoted  the 
betrothal  between  his  daughter  and  his  enemy's  son  for 
that  very  purpose.  Fortune  was  active  only  in  his  acci- 
dental finding  of  the  young  people's  letters,  which  showed 
him  that  they  were  in  love.  Valdracko's  own  motive  and 
agency,  not  Fortune,  brings  about  the  remainder  of  the 
tale.  In  "Philomela"  (XI),  155,  Philippe's  jealous  sus- 
picion of  his  wife  is  said  to  be  the  work  of  Fortune  —  and 
this  after  Greene  has  done  his  best  to  depict  Philippo  as 
suspicious  and  jealous  by  nature.  In  "Arbasto"  (III), 
222,  231,  245,  252,  the  hero  repeatedly  ascribes  to  Fortune 
the  clear  effects  of  his  own  duplicity,  ingratitude,  and 
folly  ;  the  story  has  for  sub-title  "  the  Anatomic  of  For- 
tune," and  at  the  beginning  we  behold  Arbasto,  now  in 
retirement  after  his  troubles,  robed  in  white  satin  and 
crowned  with  gold,  weeping  while  he  gazes  upon  a  "  coun- 
terfeit of  Fortune,"  his  scapegoat. 

""Penelope's  Web"  (V),  227.  Ariamenes's  eldest  son, 
praising  his  wife,  classifies  her  excellences  as  "  the  gifts  of 
nature  "  and  "  the  gifts  of  fortune  "  —  a  stereotyped  dichot- 
omy. Then,  among  the  gifts  of  fortune,  he  places  the  fact 
that  she  is  "  descended  of  honourable  parentage  "  —  a  gift 
which  of  all  gifts  comes  by  birth,  by  natura. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  383 

meaning  no  more  than  "condition  in  life"  or 
"  change  of  affairs  "  or  "  difficulties  or  obstacles 
to  be  overcome  "  or  "  some  reason  or  other  why 
things  happen  as  they  do — some  reason  which  I 
don't  care  to  take  the  trouble  to  find  out."25 
This  intellectual  laziness  leads  Greene  to  employ 
"  drag-net "  or  "  blunderbuss  "  formulae  when  he 
wishes  to  be  sure  of  including  the  true  cause  of 
his  event:  thus  he  often  couples  Fortune  with 
Fate,  the  Destinies,  the  Gods,  Time,  Chance, 
Providence,  Nemesis,  Occasion,  Opportunity,  the 
Stars,  Necessity,  Nature  and  the  like,  indiscrimi- 
nately, without  even  attempting  a  distinction  be- 
tween their  respective  agencies.26  It  would  be 
hard  to  exaggerate  the  prominence  of  Fortune  as 
an  empty  formula  throughout  the  works  of 
Greene.  Quite  apart  from  the  numerous  pas- 
sages— to  be  next  discussed — where  she  is  a  vera 

28  It  is  hardly  worth  while  to  classify  the  passages  that 
exemplify  these  cliches.  A  few — by  no  means  all — are  re- 
ferred to  here.  "  Mamillia  "  (II),  61,  236.  "  Arbasto  " 
(III),  203,  211,  215,  217,  226,  228,  239,  245,  246,  "  Carde 
of  Fancie  "  (IV),  112,  28-9,  54-5,  93,  117,  120-1,  124,  141, 
144,  153,  182,  183,  "  Penelope's  Web  "  (V),  151,  168,  "  Cen- 
sure "  (VI),  192,  "Pandosto"  (IV),  283,  285,  308. 

**"Alcida"  (IX),  23.  "  Liuing  thus  contentedly,  and  as 
I  thought  armed  against  fortune,  in  that  we  foregarded  our 
actions  with  vertue,  the  Fates,  if  there  be  any,  or  the  des- 
tinies, some  star  or  planet  in  some  infortunate  and  cursed 
aspect,  calculated  ...  ill  hap  to  all  my  daughter's  natiui- 
ties."  "  Morando  "  (III),  119  :  "  Men  can  neuer  purely  and 
simply  enjoy  the  ease  of  any  great  prosperitie :  but  whether 
it  bee  Fortune,  or  the  enuie  of  Destinie,  or  els  the  naturall 
necessitie  of  earthly  things,  their  ease  is  allwaies  inter- 
mingled with  evil  among  the  good."  "  Orpharion  "  (XII), 
14 :  "  Time  hath  many  chaunces,  the  Fates  their  Canons 
tied  to  opportunity :  Fortune  her  decrees  variable,  and  love, 
many  accidents." 


384  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

causa,  and  moves  the  plot  or  is  the  subject  of  a 
formal  disquisition,  or  of  a  genuine  personifica- 
tion with  picturesque  attributes ;  quite  apart  from 
these,  she  appears  on  nearly  every  page.27  Space 
fails  for  a  fuller  exposition  of  this  subject.  Any 
reader  who  opens  Greene's  works  anywhere  can 
see  for  himself  how  nearly  Greene's  tychomania 
amounts  to  an  obsession. 

Apart  from  these  empty  or  distorted  uses  of 
the  word  or  concept  "  Fortune,"  there  is  a  much 
more  important  and  perhaps  quite  as  bulky  class 
of  cases  where  Fortune  is  really  used  by  Greene's 
imagination  or  his  intellect.  Now  his  intellect 
gives  the  subject  a  formal  discussion — as  in 
"Morando"  (III),  127-141,  where  after  dinner 
several  members  of  the  company  discourse  at 
length  of  the  ways  of  Fortune.  Now  it  expresses 
or  hints  at  plausible  relations  between  Fortune 
and  Fate,  Fortune  and  Providence,  Fortune  and 
Justice,  Fortune  and  Nemesis,  Fortune  and  Op- 
portunity, or,  in  general  Fortune  and  other  non- 
human  forces.28  Now  it  brings  Fortune  into  rela- 

ZT"  Farewell"  (IX),  256-264:  eight  pages,  Fortune  men- 
tioned fifteen  times.  "  Menaphon  "  45-52  :  seven  pages, 
Fortune  mentioned  twenty  times. 

21 "  Garde  of  Fancie  "  (IV),  147,  184:  The  Fates  or  Dts- 
tinies  are  opposed  to  Fortune ;  she  is  unfavorable,  but  they 
are  favorable  and  stronger  and  will  prevail.  Ib.,  78 :  The 
Destinies  are  unfavorable,  but  the  Gods  favorable.  Cf. 
"  D.  &  C.,"  IV.  xxiv,  and  ante,  p.  123,  n.  Ib.,  171—2:  For- 
tune, the  Destinies,  the  Fates,  even  the  Gods  must  yield 
to  justice  and  human  desert.  "  Pandosto  "  (IV),  285  :  "  For- 
tune windeth  those  threedes  which  the  Destinies  spin " : 
assigns  to  Fortune  a  position  of  real  power,  but  subordi- 
nate to  the  Destinies.  So  "  Perimedes "  (VII),  24-54. 
"  Fortune,  or  some  contrarie  fate  aboue  fortune "  and 
"  Menaphon"  (VI),  89:  "  Where  God  and  fate  hath  vowed 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  385 

tion  with  man  by  assigning — expressly  or  im- 
pliedly — the  varying  functions  of  Fortune  and 
Nature.28  Now  it  touches  more  deeply  the  rela- 

felicitie,  no  adverse  fortune  may  expel  prosperitie."  "  Pene- 
lope's Web"  (V),  150:  "Fortune  .  .  .  having  commission 
from  angry  Neptune  to  showe  her  inconstancie,  kept 
(Ulysses)  still  from  the  end  of  his  desires."  "  Planeto- 
machia "  (V),  106:  The  eagle  drops  Rhodope's  shoe  into 
the  lap  of  Psammetichus,  "  not  by  chance,  but  by  some 
infortunate  and  dismall  destiny " ;  Aelian  ("  Var.  Hist.," 
XIII,  33)  expressly  attributes  it  to  Fortune.  "  Penelope's 
Web"  (V),  190:  Fortune  as  Nemesis:  "  Thoughtes  aboue 
measure  are  either  cut  short  by  tyme  or  fortune."  But  on 
the  other  hand,  "Censure"  (VI),  172:  "Men  determine, 
but  the  Gods  dispose :  humaine  actions  are  oft  measured 
by  will,  but  the  censures  from  above  are  iust  and  per- 
emptorie :  Fortune  is  a  goddesse  but  hath  no  priviledge  in 
punishing  of  faultes."  Fortune  controls  Occasion  or  Op- 
portunity: "Censure"  (VI),  185,  254;  "Perimedes"  (VII), 
38;  "Tullies  Love"  (VII),  113. 

29  Meaning  by  "  Nature  "  all  those  powers  that  make  the 
human  estate,  especially  at  birth,  but  to  a  less  degree 
throughout  life,  exclusive  of  "  environment."  "  Environ- 
ment "  is  the  province  of  Fortune.  "  Carde  of  Fancie " 
(IV),  107:  "In  despight  of  Fortune,  Nature  hath  given 
you  a  loving  heart."  "  Morando  "  (III),  135:  Hannibal's 
hatred  of  the  Romans  was  "  nothing  diminished  through 
olde  age,  neither  yet  through  the  alteration  of  his  estate 
and  fortune,  because  the  nature  and  qualities  of  manners 
(viz.  moral  qualities)  continueth  alwaies."  "  Mamillia " 
(II),  14:  After  enumerating  Gonzaga's  advantages  of  birth 
and  station :  "  And  yet  for  all  these  golden  giftes  of  Na- 
ture, he  was  more  bound  vnto  Fortune,  which  had  bestowed 
vpon  him  one  only  daughter."  But  in  "Censure"  (IX), 
211,  it  is  Nature  that  bestows  the  daughter.  In  "Mourn- 
ing Garment"  (IX),  127,  128,  Nature  and  Fortune  vie  with 
each  other  to  confer  gifts.  "Farewell"  (IX),  237:  Far- 
neze's  daughters  "  were  beholding  to  Nature  for  beauty,  to 
Fortune  for  wealth,  and  to  the  Gods  for  Wisdom  and 
vertue."  "Vision"  (XII),  260:  "  Fayre  Mistresse,  whom 
Fortune  hath  made  as  miserable,  as  Nature  hath  formed 
beautifull.  ...  I  praise  Nature  for  her  workmanship,  [and] 
accuse  Fortune  for  her  tyrannic."  Other  passages :  "  Fran- 
cesco's Fortunes"  (VIII),  195;  "Farewell"  (IX),  256; 

26 


386  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

tions  between  human  character  or  personality  on 
the  one  hand  and  the  forces  of  environment  on 
the  other,  by  way  of  the  formula — ancient  but 
informed  by  the  Renaissance  with  new  vitality — 
of  Fortune  and  Virtue.30  Now  his  imagination 

"Mamillia"    (II),    97,    109,   282,   287;    "Censure"    (VI), 

183-4- 

30  Virtue  meaning  the  powers  of  personality,  thought  of 
either  as  passively  resisting  or  as  actively  opposing  the 
force  of  circumstances.  As  before,  circumstances  or  en- 
vironment are  the  province  of  Fortune.  "Mamillia"  (II), 
162:  "The  incomparable  constancie  of  Mamillia,  which  was 
so  surelie  defenced  with  the  rampier  of  vertue,  as  all  the 
fierce  assaults  of  fortune  could  no  whit  prevaile."  "  Vir- 
tue "  may  thus  be  associated  or  identified  with  any  strong 
human  quality :  Constancy  in  love,  as  in  the  passage  just 
quoted,  and  in  "  Carde  of  Fancie "  (IV),  183,  184,  186. 
Courage:  "Spanish  Masquerade"  (V),  258.  Counsel: 
"  Planetomachia "  (V),  125;  "Penelope's  Web"  (V), 
172-3;  Prowess:  "  Censure  "  (VI),  243.  Fortitude:  "Cen- 
sure" (VI),  257;  "Perimedes"  (VII),  52-3;  Wit:  "Sec- 
ond Part  of  Connycatching  "  (X),  in.  Foresight:  "  Philo- 
mela "  (XI),  115.  Valor:  "  Orpharion  "  (XII),  84.  Wisdom: 
"Mamillia,"  II,  288;  "Censure"  (VI),  202,  208.  Though 
these  qualities,  summed  up  as  "  Virtue,"  are  occasionally 
said,  like  "  Nature,"  to  cooperate  with  Fortune,  they  gen- 
erally resist  her.  One  of  Greene's  favorite  thoughts,  closely 
connected  with  his  tendency  toward  the  pastoral  and  the 
simple  life,  is  that  Fortune  can  be  "spited"  by  a  silent 
and  contented  endurance  of  her  flouts :  she  rejoices  to  hear 
her  victims  complain,  but  is  grieved  by  their  patient,  con- 
temptuous silence.  So  "Perimedes"  (VII),  12,  26;  "  Ar- 
basto "  (III),  180-1,  250,  253;  "Farewell"  (IX),  262, 
264;  "Censure"  (VI),  217.  The  thought  grows  naturally 
out  of  Greene's  favorite  "  situation  " — a  high  born  person 
in  retirement  or  adversity.  This  is  the  genre  "  De  Casibus 
Virorum  Illustrium "  ("Orpharion"  (XII),  91-92:  "The 
chaunces  of  fortune,  and  fall  of  Princes  ")  ;  which  Greene 
removes  from  its  mediaeval  association  with  tragedy,  by 
giving  it  a  happy  ending  and  adorning  it  with  classical 
sentiments  about  Fortune.  The  antithesis  of  virtus  and 
fortuna,  indeed,  goes  back  at  least  as  far  as  Sophocles, 
appears  formally  in  Cicero  and  Virgil,  as  well  as  in  Plu- 
tarch and  later  writers,  and  is  exemplified  in  literally 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  387 

gives  visual  form,  conventional  or  bizarre,  tradi- 
tional or  peculiar,  to  Fortune31  personified.  Fi- 
nally, his  imagination,  like  that  of  Achilles  Tatius, 
employs  Fortune  as  a  vera  causa,  the  mistress  of 
his  plot,  to  begin  his  action,  work  its  peripeteia, 
furnish  its  moments  of  suspense,  and  accomplish 
its  denouement  or  catastrophe.  Beyond  this, 
Greene's  use  of  Fortune  cannot  go,  nor  is  it  skil- 

innumerable  passages  in  the  literature  and  inscriptions  of 
the  Renaissance.  A  few  instances  of  its  formal  occurrence 
in  Greene  may  be  noted:  "  Morando "  (III),  130,  142, 
hints  that  Greene  may  have  known  of  the  antique  origin 
of  the  formula.  The  Romans,  it  is  said,  "  thought  them- 
selves more  beholding  unto  Fortune  for  the  greatnesse  and 
prosperitie  of  their  Empire  then  to  vertue,"  but '' the  Athen- 
ians placed  vertue  above  Fortune."  Other  passages,  in 
"Pandosto"  (IV),  273;  "Penelopes  Web"  (V),  159; 
"  Menaphon  "  (VI),  i  (title-page);  "  Perimedes  "  (VII), 
61  ;  "Tullies  Love"  (VII),  211  ;  "Neuer  too  Late"  (VIII), 
59,  61  ;  "Mourning  Garment"  (IX),  122;  "  Alcida  "  (IX), 
23,  89,  93;  "Philomela"  (X),  169.  The  history  of  the 
formula  strikes  deep  into  the  history  of  literature  and  of 
ideas,  and  is  a  subject  rather  for  a  volume  than  for  a 
foot-note. 

31  Fortune's  wheel  is  no  longer,  as  it  was  in  Roman  art, 
a  mere  symbol,  an  attribute  for  an  august  goddess  to  hold 
quietly  in  her  hand  or  to  lean  upon.  It  has  become  during 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  it  remains  in  Greene,  an  active  in- 
strument upon  which  Fortune  raises  and  lowers  her  vic- 
tims. So  "Perimedes"  (VII),  55-6;  "Censure"  (VI), 
174;  "  Arbasto  "  (III),  231  ;  "  Carde  of  Fancie  "  (IV),  123, 
125;  "Morando"  (III),  133-4.  In  the  last-cited  passage, 
and  in  "Alcida"  (IX),  82,  she  stands  upon  a  globe,  and  is 
zvinged — (cf.  Diirer's  engriving  known  as  "  Die  grosse 
Fortuna ")  ;  in  "Pandosto"  (IV),  274,  she  is  "plumed 
with  Times  feathers";  in  "Farewell"  (IX),  256,  she  is 
"  like  the  picture  of  lanus,  double  faced  " ;  ib.,  264,  she  is 
blinded  by  her  own  spite;  in  "  Mamillia  "  (II),  78,  she  is 
blind  again;  in  "Arbasto"  (III),  179,  her  "counterfeit" 
shows  her  "  with  one  foot  troade  on  a  polype  fish,  and 
with  the  other  on  a  camelion,  as  assured  badges  of  ... 
mutabilitie."  This  is  a  pure  "  emblem." 


388  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

ful  or  consistent  as  it  stands;  but  so  far  it  cer- 
tainly does  go ;  and  not  all  his  trumpery  can  con- 
ceal the  fact. 

The  only  one  of  these  intellectual  or  imagina- 
tive uses  of  Fortune  that  need  occupy  us  further 
is  the  last.  Greene  uses  three  times  the  device  of 
a  soliloquy  overheard :  in  "  Carde  of  Fancie " 
(IV),  153 ;  in  "  Perimedes,"  and  in  "  Philomela  " 
— a  device  distinctly  fortuitous.  In  the  first  in- 
stance, he  says,  "  frowarde  Fortune  brought  it  so 
to  passe,  that  Valericus  [who  was  Gwydonius's 
rival  and  sought  occasion  to  ruin  him]  coming 
by  the  chamber  of  Gwydonius,"  heard  him  reveal 
the  fact  that  he  was  the  son  of  the  Duke's  enemy. 
A  cruel  father's  finding  of  his  daughter's  love- 
letters  is  also  contrived  by  Fortune.  "  Planeto- 
machia"  (V),  81 :  Rodento  having  told  his  love 
to  Valdracko's  daughter  Pasylla,  and  received 
from  her  a  not  unfavorable  reply,  "  Fortune  .  .  . 
thought  to  lift  him  up  to  ye  skies,  yt  she  might 
wt  more  violence  push  him  down  lower  than  hel, 
and  to  bring  this  to  passe  she  thus  laid  her  plat- 
forme.  It  fortuned"  that  Valdracko  found  Ro- 
dento's  letter  and  a  copy  of  Pasylla's — an  event 
which  set  him  plotting  the  atrocities  that  lead  on 
to  the  remainder  of  the  tale.  Fortune  is  here  a 
vera  causa.  So  she  is  in  "Perimedes"  (VII), 
27  (Boccaccio's  story  of  Madonna  Beritola). 
Whereas  Boccaccio  had  brought  about  his  peri- 
peteia by  means  of  a  semblance,  at  least,  of  nat- 
ural causes, — letting  the  hounds  drive  one  of 
Beritola's  kids  to  her  protection,  and  thus  effect- 
ing her  discovery  and  rescue, — Greene  left  this 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  389 

matter  to  pure  chance :  "  Fortune  not  brooking 
her  owne  bitterness,  seeing  how  patient  the  Ladie 
[Mariana]  was  in  her  miserie,  determined  to  add 
some  relief  to  her  passions,  which  she  brought  to 
passe  in  this  manner.  The  Despot  of  Decapolis 
and  his  wife  .  .  .  being  one  day  rode  on  hunting, 
by  chaunce  .  .  .  lost  their  way,  and  happened  into 
that  desert,  where  they  .  .  .  met  Mariana."  Earlier 
in  the  story,  Fortune  had  charge  of  the  ship- 
wreck. Ib.,  23 :  "  fortune  who  ment  to  make  her 
a  mirrour  of  hir  inconstancie,  as  it  were  entring 
into  a  league  with  Neptune,  drove  hir  upon  the 
coast  of  Decapolis."  It  is,  of  course,  one  of  the 
inalienable  rights  of  Fortune  to  cast  people  upon 
strange  shores.  She  does  this  likewise  in  "Al- 
cida"  (IX),  15,  according  to  one  of  Greene's 
drag-net  or  blunderbuss  assertions :  "  Whether  our 
unhappy  Fortune,  the  frowardnesse  of  the  Fates, 
the  constellation  of  some  contrary  Aspect,  or  the 
particular  destinie  of  some  unhappy  man  had  so 
decreed  .  .  .  our  barke  by  chance  fell  upon  the 
coast  of  Taprobane."  This  prerogative  of  For- 
tune is  well  recognized  by  all  who  take  ship.  In 
"Philomela"  (XI),  172,  "As  the  poore  Coun- 
tesse  .  .  .  little  regarded  to  what  port  of  Christ- 
edom  the  bark  made,  .  .  .  she  slipt  awaie  .  .  . 
and  getting  aboorde  vnder  saile,  commit  [ted] 
her  selfe  to  God,  the  mercie  of  the  Seas,  and  to 
the  husband  [ry]  of  manie  hard  fortunes."  So 
did  Achilles  Tatius's  eloping  party  (II.  xxxi). 
Fortune  uses  her  control  of  wind  and  wave  in  a 
spirit  of  irony.  In  "Censure"  (VI),  189,  when 
Maedyna  and  Vortymis  planned  to  elope,  "  For- 
tune willing  under  the  suppose  of  their  felicitie 


39°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

to  hide  the  very  substance  of  their  myserie, 
brought  the  wind  about  .  .  .  faire  for  Samos." 
She  seems  to  possess  a  sort  of  grim  sportiveness. 
Maedyna  had  nursed  her  guilty  passion  for  Vor- 
tymis  in  secret  (ib.~),  185,  "till  at  last  fortune 
willing  in  a  sweete  figge  to  present  hir  bitter 
wormewoode,  found  such  fit  opportunity,  that 
Vortymis  and  shee  met  alone."  The  same  pas- 
sage is  repeated  almost  verbatim,  about  Procidor 
and  Marcella,  in  "  Perimedes  "  (VII),  38.  After 
the  death  of  Cimbriana's  father,  in  "  Censure " 
(VI),  217,  "  Fortune  seeing  the  Lady  not  greatly 
checked  with  this  mate,  thought  to  sport  [her] 
selfe  in  the  tragicall  mishappe  of  this  young  prin- 
cesse,"  and  so  brought  fresh  troubles  upon  her. 
A  courtier,  a  shepherd,  and  a  clown  love  the  shep- 
herdess Mirimida,  and  each  writes  her  a  letter. 
"Francescos  Fortunes"  (VIII), 204:  "Thus  had 
Fortune  (meaning  to  be  merrie)  .  .  .  brought  it 
to  passe  that  the  three  letters  from  the  three  rivals 
were  deliuered  at  one  instant."  Fortune  brings 
about  a  serious  coincidence  as  easily  as  a  comic 
one.  Philomela  living  in  retirement  in  Palermo 
is  being  sought  by  her  father,  her  husband  and 
her  friend.  "Philomela"  (XI),  193 :  " It  chaunced 
that  either  by  Fortune  or  destinie"  all  three  ar- 
rived in  that  city  at  the  same  time.  So  malevo- 
lent is  the  goddess  in  her  grim  irony  that  she 
baits  traps  for  mankind.  In  "  Penelope's  Web  " 
(V),  189,  the  dethroned  Queen  sends  warning 
verses  to  the  usurper. 

"  Take  heed,  Ambition   is   a  sugred   ill, 
That  fortune  layes,  presumptuous  mynds  to  spill." 

But  if  she  is  "  varium  et  mutabile  semper,"  that 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  391 

very  fact  brings  consolation ;  for  she  will  change 
as  well  at  her  worst  as  at  her  best;  hence,  in 
misery  men  may  look  for  a  happy  turn.  It  is 
thus  that  Lamedon  comforts  Sephestia  after  their 
shipwreck  ("Menaphon"  (VI),  45-7);  and  it 
is  thus,  in  "  Carde  of  Fancie"  (IV),  160,  when 
Valericus  and  Thersandro  are  sent  separately  to 
apprehend  Gwydonius  as  a  traitor,  that  "  For- 
tune, who  after  euery  chip  of  mischaunce  sendeth 
some  lot  of  good  lucke,  and  after  euerie  storme 
of  adversitie,  sendeth  a  quiet  calme  of  prosper- 
itie,"  arranged  for  him  to  be  met  and  arrested 
not  by  his  enemy  but  by  his  friend,  who  let  him 
escape. 

Typical  of  this  real  activity  of  Fortune  is  an 
important  incident  in  "Pandosto"  (IV),  296. 
The  shepherd,  Fawnia's  foster-father,  has  left 
home  meaning  to  disclose  to  the  King  (Dorastus's 
father),  the  circumstances  under  which  Fawnia 
had  been  found.  Had  this  errand  been  accom- 
plished, the  King  would  have  learned  of  Fawnia's 
royal  birth  and  would  doubtless  have  consented 
at  once  to  her  marriage  with  his  son.  "  But  as 
[Porrus]  was  going,  fortune  (who  meant  to 
showe  him  a  little  false  play)  prevented  his  pur- 
pose in  this  wise.  He  met  by  chaunce"  the 
Prince's  servant,  bound  for  the  ship  on  which 
Dorastus  and  Fawnia  were  already  embarked. 
The  servant  feigning  that  the  King  was  on  the 
ship,  persuaded  the  shepherd  to  come  aboard;32 
and  of  course  kidnapped  him  and  prevented  the 
disclosure.  Hence  neither  of  the  kings  knew 
Fawnia,  and  her  own  father  was  about  to  put 

MAutolycus,  meeting  the  shepherd,  performs  the  same 
function  in  "  Winter's  Tale,"  IV.  iv,  824. 


392  THE  GREEK   ROMANCES  IN 

her  to  death.  The  moment  of  last  suspense  in 
the  tale  (see  post,  p.  426)  is  thus  directly  brought 
about  by  the  agency  of  Fortune,  both  in  kidnap- 
ping Porrus  and  in  wrecking  the  lovers  upon  the 
coast  of  Bohemia. 

Such  are  some  of  the  aspects  which  Fortune — 
never,  one  may  say,  absent  from  Greene's  mind — 
assumes  according  as  she  is  more  or  less  removed 
from  his  "  focus  of  consciousness."  Far  from  the 
focus,  and  seen  with  the  tail  of  his  eye,  she  is  a 
word,  ready  to  be  applied  anywhere,  anyhow, 
either  without  a  meaning  or  with  a  meaning  con- 
trary to  the  realities  of  the  case.  Approaching 
the  focus,  she  becomes  a  gwa^'-reality,  half  visible 
and  related  with  some  plausibility  to  other  ab- 
stract quasi-realities,  human  and  non-human.  In 
the  focus,  she  is  a  genuine  force,  very  skilful 
indeed  to  make  things  happen,  and  to  put  Greene's 
personages  into  interesting  situations :  she  is  the 
mistress  of  his  plot.  In  all  these  aspects,  in  the 
breadth  of  their  range,  and,  throughout  that 
range,  in  the  enormous  frequency  of  Greene's 
mention  of  Fortune,  there  is  a  strong  resemblance 
to  Achilles  Tatius.33 

Were  there  no  certain  evidence  of  direct  bor- 
rowing by  Greene,  the  similarities  just  set  forth 
— similarities  in  rhetoric  and  style,  and  in  the 
use  and  abuse  of  Fortune — would  at  least  prove 
a  strong  mental  kinship  between  the  two  writers, 
would  show  that  Greene  was  inclined,  was  ready, 
to  be  influenced  by  Achilles  Tatius.  They  would 
probably  do  more :  their  cumulative  effect  would 

M  Other  aspects  of  Fortune  in  Greene  seem  to  be  derived 
from  Heliodorus,  and  still  others  from  Longus.  They  will 
be  treated  hereafter.  See  pp.  409  ft.  and  435  ff. 


ELIZABETHAN  P&OSE  FICTION  393 

be  to  raise  at  least  a  presumption  of  actual  in- 
fluence. However  this  may  be,  the  matter  is 
placed  beyond  doubt,  and  the  probability  ren- 
dered a  certainty,  by  the  direct  borrowings  now 
to  be  set  forth. 

It  was  said  (ante,  p.  379),  that  the  presence 
in  "  Clitophon  and  Leucippe  "  and  in  "  Arbasto  " 
of  the  same  faults  in  narrative  method,  was  no 
accident.  The  simple  fact  is  that  Greene  took 
his  framework  bodily  from  the  Greek  romance. 
In  both,  the  narrator  is  tempest-tossed ;  arrives  at 
Sidon;  makes  a  thank-offering;  makes  it  to  the 

.      I   "  citizens "  \      ..     .  , 
goddess  whom  the  ("g-j     •       »\  call  Astarte; 

then  goes  about  looking  at  the  sights ;  sees  a  pic- 

,  f"  Fortune"! 
ture  exhibiting  the  power  of  <    «  r        ,,    f ;  sees, 

close  by,  a  man  moved  by  the  sight  of  that  pic- 
ture; asks  the  man  to  tell  his  story;  meets  with 
some  reluctance  on  the  part  of  the  stranger;  but 
at  length  hears  the  story,  which  is  a  story  of 

tt    •  •       j  v     f "  Fortune  " } 

sufferings  occasioned  by  <     (f  r         "     [• 

Following  are  the  passages  arranged  parallel: 

"ARBASTO"   (III).  178 ff.      "CLITOPHON  AND  LEU- 
(  Opening  of  story.)  CIPPE,"  I.  i,  ii. 

(Opening  of  story.) 

li      I  -  1   •  1/~«  \  -T  O  J       / 

Saylmg  towards  Can- 
die,**  after  that  I  had  long  2i8o>v  firl  6a.Xa.rrri  TroXi?  • 
time  been  tossed  with  in-  •••  'EvravOa  TJKWV  IK  iro\- 
fortunate  tempests,  forced  Xov  xeiju,oi>vos, 

84  The  phrase  "  sayling  towards  Candie,"  is  Greene's  trans- 
lation of  a  part  of  Achilles  Tatius's  Zicfipt  <r  s  of  Europa 
(likewise  at  the  beginning  of  "Clitophon  and  Leucippe"), 
and  occurs,  ipsissimis  verbis,  in  Greene's  rendering  of  the 
Europa  passage,  in  his  "  Morando."  See  post,  p.  399. 


394 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


by  wind  and  waue,  our 
course  not  well  guided  by 
our  compasse,  happily  ar- 
riued  at  the  city  of  Sy- 
don,  where  being  set  on 
shoare,  I  straight  with  my 
companions,  went  to  offer 
incense  to  ye  goddesse  of 
prosperitie,  which  the  cit- 
izens call  Astarte.  Whith- 
er being  come,  my  deuo- 
tions  done,  and  my  obla- 
tions offered  up,  desirous 
to  take  a  view  of  the  an- 
cient monuments  of  the 
Teple,  I  passed  through 
many  places,  where  most 
sumptuous  sepulchres 
were  erected :  which  being 
scene,  as  I  thought  to  have 
gone  to  my  lodging,  I 
espied  a  Cel,  having  the 
dore  ope:  [wherein  sat  an 
old  priest  clad  in  satin 
and  crowned  with  gold, 
who]  leaned  his  heade 
vpon  his  right  hand,  powr- 
ing  forth  streames  of 
watrish  teares,  as  out- 
ward signes  of  some  in- 
ward passions,  and  held 
in  his  left  hand  the  coun- 
terfeit of  fortune.  .  .  . 
Willing  to  knowe  both  the 
cause  of  his  care,  and 
what  the  picture  of  For- 
tune did  import,  [I  asked 


Wvov  epavrov  rrj 
Oea.      'A.a- 
TapTrjv  avrrjv  ol   StSairioi 

KoAoOo-lV.  Kat     7TC/3UCOV 

ovv  KCU  Trjv  aXXyv  iroAiv 


KCU  irepurKoiriv  TO. 
/xara, 


opS)  ypa<i>r)v  [viz.  of  the 
Rape  of  Europa.  When 
I  exclaimed  upon  the 
power  of  love,] 
K05  KCU  avros 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  395 

him    for    his    story,    and      'Eyio   TO.VT    av    eSeucvw, 
though  he  rebuffed  me,  I      Ifa,  roo-avVas  v/3p«s  e£ 
persisted.]    p.   183:  If  the       eptoros  -rraOwv.       Kai   ri 
praier  of  a  poore  stranger      ire-n-ovOas,    C'TTOV,  uyaOe; 
might    preuaile    to    per-      He  hesitated ;   but  soon 
swade  you  to  vnfold  the      told   me  what   he   had 
cause  of  these  your  sud-      suffered  at  the  hands  of 
den    passions,    I    shoulde      Love, 
thinke  my  former  trauels 
counteruaile[d]   with  this 
your     friendly     curtesie." 
Finally,    he    did    tell    me 
what  he  had  suffered  at 
Fortune's  hands. 

"Arbasto"  was  published  in  1584;  and  so, 
probably,  were  "  Carde  of  Fancie "  and  Part  I 
of  "Morando."  "The  card  of  phantasie"  ap- 
pears in  the  Stationers'  Register  on  April 
n,  1584.  Of  "Morando"  Grosart  mentions 
(Greene,  Works,  III.  44)  a  "Part  1st,  of  1584, 
in  the  Bodleian";  and  Storojenko  (ibid.  I.  75) 
argues  against  any  later  date  for  the  first  edition, 
as  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  to  whom  it  is  dedicated, 
"  was  committed  to  the  Tower  for  high  treason 
in  the  following  year."  Both  books  were  cer- 
tainly printed  in  1587;  but  if  they  first  appeared 
in  1584,  that  year  saw  the  publication  of  all  of 
Greene's  work  containing  direct  transcription 
from  Achilles  Tatius. 

In  "  Carde  of  Fancie  "  one  of  the  heroines  is 
Lewcippa;  her  father,  the  Duke  of  Metelyne,  is 
Clerophontes.35  Her  brother  makes  his  way  to 

88  If  Greene  used  an  Italian  version  of  Achilles  Tatius, 
the  name  Clerophontes  may  have  come,  with  the  change 
of  one  letter,  from  Clitofonte  or  Cletofonte.  "  Thersandro  " 
points  to  an  Italian  form. 


396 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


Alexandria,  enters  the  service  of  the  Duke  there, 
and  becomes  the  friend  of  the  Duke's  son  Ther- 
sandro,  who  afterwards  marries  Lewcippa.  The 
daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Alexandria  is  placed  in 
charge  of  a  widow  named  Melytta.  In  "  Mo- 
rando  "  Greene  uses  the  names  "  Panthia,"  "  La- 
cena,"  and  " Sostrata." 

In  "  Carde  of  Fancie "  Greene  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  Valericus,  as  a  soliloquy,  the  invective 
of  Clinias  against  women. 


"CARDE  OF  FANCIE" 
(IV),  37,  39-40 

..."  Call  to  minde  what 
miseries,  what  mischiefes, 
what  mishappes,  what 
what  woes,  what  wailings, 
murthers,  what  care,  what 
calamities  haue  happened 
to  such  as  haue  beene  be- 
sotted with  the  balefull 
beautie  of  women.  .  .  . 
What  careless  inconstan- 
cie  ruled  Eriphilaf  What 
currish  crueltie  reigned  in 
Philomela  f  How  incestu- 
ous a  life  led  A  euro  pa  f 
And  how  miserable  was 
that  man  that  married 
Sthuolea?  What  gaines 
got  Tereus  in  winning 
Progne,  but  a  loathsome 
death  for  a  little  delight? 
Agamemnon  in  possessing 
the  beautie  of  Crecida, 


"CLITOPHON  AND  LEU- 
CIPPE,"  I.  viii 

•  •  •  lyyvoeis  av  TO.  rSiv  yv- 
vaixwv  8pdfJiaTa  '  vvv  Se 
KO.V  aAAois  Ae'yots,  ocrwv 
eveVXT/crav  fivOutv  ywatxcs 
rrjv  crKTfjvrjv.  'O  op/xo? 


8ia/?oA>/, 


K\oirr),  HpoKvvjs  17 

Av  TO  Xpvo-TyfSos 

Ayajjiffjivaiv  iroQfj,  XOI/MOV 

TOIS  EAA^crt  Troiet-  av  TO 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION 


397 


caused  the  Grecian  armie 
most  grieuouslie  to  be 
plagued.  Candaules  was 
slaine  by  his  murthering 
wife  whom  so  intirely  he 
loued.  Who  was  thought 
more  happie  than  the  hus- 
bande  of  Helena,  and  yet 
who  in  time  lesse  fortu- 
nate ?  What  hapless 
chances  insued  cf  the  chas- 
titie  of  Penelope?  What 
broiles  in  Rome  by  the 
vertue  of  Lucreciaf  The 
one  caused  her  sutors, 
most  horrible,  to  be  slaine, 
and  the  other  that  Tar- 
quine  and  all  his  posteritie 
were  rooted  out  of  their 
regall  dignities.  Phaedra 
in  louing  killed  her  hap- 
less sonne  Hippolitus,  and 
Clitemnestra  in  hating 
slewe  her  loving  husband 
Agamemnon.  Alasse  Va- 
lericus,  how  daungerous  is 
it  then  to  deale  with  such 
dames,  which  if  theyloue, 
they  procure  thy  fatall 
care:  and  if  they  hate 
thee,  thy  finall  calamitie? 


Bp«rr;t8os  KoAAos  ' 

Aevs,    irevBos   avruJ 

fvu  •  eav  fxy  7  wawca  Kav- 


yvvrf. 


To 


p.ev  yap  'EAci/rys  TCOV  yafjuav 
irvp  avfj^if.  Kara  TTJS  Tpotas 


aAAo  Trvp  •   6  Sf.   II^veAo- 
Trr^s  •ya/xos  T^S 

7TOCTOVS 


'ATTOCTCIVCV  ' 
AVTOV     <£iAoi)cra 


KAvTai/AV7/(TTpa  8'  'Aya- 
ju.6ju.vova  p.1]  (f)L\ov(Ta.  ft 
Travra  ToA/noio-at 


xav  ju,^  c^iAaicri, 


Greene  substitutes  Lucrece  for  Briseis,  and 
transposes  Sthenoboea  (misprinted  "Sthuolea") 
and  Ae'rope  ("Aeuropa").  Otherwise  his  list 
reproduces  Achilles  Tatius's,  and  in  the  same 


39$  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

order,  dulling  its  edges  with  generalization,  but 
sharpening  them  again  in  the  antithesis  at  the  end. 
Again,  in  "  Carde  of  Fancie,"  Castania  under 
stress  of  conflicting  emotions  compares  her  case 
to  that  of  Achilles  Tatius's  Sicilian  spring,  where 
water  and  fire  mingle : 

"CARDE  OF  FANCIE"          "CLITOPHON  AND  LEU- 
(IV),  80  CIPPE,"  II.  xiv 

"In  which  cursed  case          To  yow  rrjs  SwceAuojs 

alasse  my  care  consisteth,  irrjyfjs  vowp  KfKf.paap.evov 

for  as   out   of   the   river  e^ei  TTV/T  KOL  <p\6ya  p.t.v 

Cea    in    Sicillia    bursteth  oi/'et   KarwOev   O.TT    avr^s 

most  fearefull  flames,  and  dAAoju.evijv    avcoflev.       Bi- 

yet  the  streame  is  passing  yovri   Se   <rot    TO    vowp, 

colde,  neither  is  the  water  i/'v^pov  COTIV  oToWep  xicov, 

able   to   quench   the    fire,  KCU  OVTC  TO  irvp  iiro  TOV 

nor  the  fire  cause  the  wa-  vSaros    KaTao-flewvTai, 

ter    to    be    hotte,    SO    the  ovre  TO  vo<ap  inro  TOV  7TV/305 

heate  of  hope  flameth  out  <£AeyeT<u  ••• 
of  the  chilling  fountains 
of  feare." 

Greene  uses  the  same  paradox  twice  more.  In 
"Alcida"  (IX),  59,  Meribates,  who  is  cruising 
about,  comes  by  chance  to  Taprobane  and  falls 
in  love.  He  soliloquizes :  "  Soughtest  thou  to 
abide  the  pleasures  of  Neptune,  and  art  faine  to 
stand  to  the  courtesie  of  loue  ?  Hast  thou  found 
flames  amidst  the  waues?  Fire  in  the  water 
.  .  .?"  In  "Never  too  late"  (VIII),  51,  part 
of  "  Isabells  Ode  " : 

"Her  eies  carried  darts  of  fier, 
Feathred  all  with  swift  desier, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION 


399 


Yet  foorth  these  fierie  darts  did  passe 
Pearled  teares  as  bright  as  glasse, 
That  wonder  twas  in  her  eine 
Fire  and  water  should  combine." 

The  longest  of  Greene's  direct  transcriptions 
is  taken,  like  the  frame  of  "Arbasto"  (ante,  p. 
393),  from  Achilles  Tatius's  opening  chapters, 
which  seem  to  have  appealed  strongly  to  Greene. 
Now,  in  "  Morando,"  it  is  the  romancer's 
of  Europa  that  he  copies. 


" MORANDO"  (III),  56-7 

Signior  Peratio  spied 
hanging  in  the  Parler  a 
Table  most  curiously 
painted:  wherein  both  the 
sea  and  the  land  was  most 
perfectly  pourtraied.  The 
picture  was  of  Europa, 
the  sea  of  the  Phenicians 
and  the  land  of  Sydon: 
On  the  shoare  was  a  beau- 
tifull  Medow,  wherein 
stood  a  troupe  of  daintie 
Damosels:  in  the  Sea  a 
Bull,  upon  whose  backe 
sat  a  Dame  of  surpassing 
beautie,  sailing  towards 
Candie"  but  looking  to 
the  crew  of  her  compan- 
ions from  whom  by  sinis- 
ter meanes  she  was  sep- 
erated.  The  painter  by 
secrete  skill  had  perfectly 
with  his  Pensill  desciph- 

*  "  Sailing  towards 


"CLITOPHON  AND  LEU- 
CIPPE,"  I.  i,  ii 


viK<av  rj  6d\a<T<ra.  • 

?  "M- 

'Ev     rrj    yfj    A.etyu,o)v     »cai 


'Ev    rrj    OaXoLTTy     ravpos 

£V77X€TO,     KOLl     TOIS      VWTOtS 

Ka\r)  Trapdev 


TOV     X€l/XO)VO5     TcXet     TTpOS 

rats  €7ri  Oakarrav  Tiys  y^S 
CK/3oAats  ras  irapOevow; 
tra^cv  o  r€\VLTr)<i.  To 
(T^fjua.  rats  irapOevois  Kal 
see  ante,  p.  393,  n.  34. 


400 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 


ered  the  feature  of  their 
faces,  as  their  counte- 
nance did  seeme  to  im- 
porte  both  feare  and  hope. 
For  seeing  their  Peereles 
Princesse  a  praie  to  such 
a  prowling  Pyrate,  they 
rusht  into  the  seas  (as 
willing  to  be  partakers  of 
their  Mistresse  miserie) 
as  far  as  feare  of  such 
feareful  surges  would  per- 
mit them,  but  pushed 
backe  with  the  dread  of 
present  daunger,  they 
stood  vewing  how  cun- 
ningly and  carefully  the 
Bull  transported  his 
charge:  How  Euro  pa 
araied  in  purple  roabes 
sat  securely  and  safely 
holding  in  her  right  hand 
his  home,  and  in  her  left 
his  taile.  About  him  the 
Dolphins  seemed  to  leape, 
the  Syrens  to  sing,  and 
Triton  himself  e  to  tri- 
umph. Cupid  also  in  the 
forme  of  a  litle  boy  was 
there  most  curiously  paint- 
ed, hauing  the  wings  spred, 
a  Quiuer  by  his  side,  in 
one  hand  a  flame  of  fire, 
in  the  other  a  chaine  of 
gold  wherwith  he  drew 
the  Bull  as  by  constraint, 
and  turning  bis  head  tQ-. 


KCU  <j>6(3ov  • 
6<f>6a\p.ov<i  avoi£ao~at  irpos 
rrjv  BaXaurvav  •  •••  ras 
Xttpas  a>s  tTTt  TOV  /Jovv 
w/jcyov.  E7T€/?aivov  OK/TO; 
7-775  0aAaTTTis,  oo-ov  v-jrepd- 
vcu  /jLLKpov  rS>v  Tapo~S)v  \nrep- 
e\uv  TO  Kvpa.  •  ewKto-av  Be 
(3ov\eo-$ai  p.ev  ws  CTTI  TOV 
ravpov  Spa/jteiv,  <j>o(3(Zv- 
Oai  8e  rfj  OcL\a.TTr]  Tr/ooo-eA.- 
6uv  •••.  Tavpos  ev  /Metry 
rfj  $a\a.TTrj  fyeypairTO 

TOtS    KVfJLCHTlV    CTTO^OV/XCVOS 

•••    'H     wapOevos    /xeVois 
jTO  TOIS  VWTOIS  TOU 
Ty  Aaia  TQV  Kf.pu><> 
•  YI  ^Xatva  Trop- 


SlCTC- 


<j>vpa 

Al 
TttVTO,     17    fJifV     €7Tl      K€/3aS, 

17  S'  CTT'  ovpdv  •••.      Tiepl 
Be  TOV  ftovv  wo^ovvro  8f\- 


TOV    /3ovv- 
TraiStov 


•f/irXtaKU  TO  7TTC/3OV, 

<f>apfTpav,  eKpa/rci  TO  in>p' 
eirecrrpaiTTO  8'  is  eirl  TOV 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION 


401 


Ai'u  KUI  VTrc/xetSta,  Sxnrep 
avrov  KarayeAwv.  on  Si* 
UVTOV  ylyove  /8ovs. 


ii.    'Eyw  8e  /cat  raAAa 


/U,€V 


wards  lupiter  seemed  to 
smile  at  his  follie,  and  to 
despise  his  deitie,  that  by 
this  means  he  had  made 
such  a  strange  Metamor- 
phosis. 

Signior  Peratio  hauing 
long  gazed  on  this  gor- 
geous picture, both  praised 
his  perfect  skill  that  had 
so  cunningly  made  a  coun- 
terfeit of  Nature  by  arte, 
and  also  mused  at  the 
force  of  Loue  that  had  by 
conquest  caught  so  wor- 
thie  a  Captiue,  that  at 
length  as*  one  forced  by 
affection  he  sighing  said: 
O  Gods  that  a  childe 
should  rule  both  the 
heauen,  the  sea  and  the 
land.  Don  Silvestro  see- 
ing Peratio  so  sodainlie 
passionate  with  the  view 
of  a  simple  picture,  taking 
occasion  herupon  to  enter 
into  further  parle  began 
to  crosse  him  on  this 
maner  . 


The  foregoing  passage  is  notable,  as  being  the 
only  i=K(f>pa(n<;  in  Greene.  Later  in  the  same 
novel,  "Morando"  (III),  133-4,  there  is,  to  be 
sure,  a  formal  description  of  Fortune,  which  pro- 
fesses to  reproduce  a  painting  of  her  "  in  the 
27 


are  8'  <wv  epcorwcos 

yOTtpOV          €/3A.€7TOV  TOV 

ayovra  TOV  /Sow  "Epwra  • 


KCU     Otov,     CITTOV, 
jSpe'^os    ovpavov    KOL   ys 
xa:  ^aAaTTT/s       Tavra  /MOV 
XeyovTos, 
arros 


402  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Duke  of  Florence  chamber  " ;  but  the  moralizing 
commentary  accompanying  this  description  as  it 
proceeds,  together  with  the  verses  said  to  be  ap- 
pended to  the  picture,  leave  no  doubt  that  it  is  an 
Emblem31  rather  than  a  true  e/^/aaor?. 

In  still  another  passage  of  the  same  novel — 
"Morando"  (III),  77 — one  of  the  personages 
having  remarked  upon  the  suddenness  of  love  is 
asked  what  made  him  think  of  that,  and  replies: 

"The  picture  of  Andromeda  and  Perseus,  which 
hangs  here  before  mine  eyes,  brought  this  to  my 
remembrance,  for  me  thinke  [sic]  either  Andro- 
meda was  passing  beautifull,  or  Perseus  verie  amor- 
ous, that  soaring  aloft  in  the  ayre  he  did  firmlie 
loue  before  he  did  fullie  looke,  his  eyes  were  scarce- 
lie  fixed  ere  his  hart  was  fettered." 

— A  brief  allusion  to  a  picture  which  Achilles 
Tatius  gives  in  full  (A.  T.,  III.  vi,  vii).  Greene 
lets  pass  the  chance  for  another  eicfypaa-v;. 

In  fact,  Greene's  talent  does  not  lie  that  way. 
He  is  distinctly  deficient  in  descriptive  power, 
and  seems  to  want  almost  wholly  the  feeling  for 
scenic  "  background."  As  will  be  observed  later,38 
he  fails  when  he  tries  to  write  a  spectacular 
Heliodorean  ensemble-scene.  His  one  description 
of  landscape39  is  brief  and  runs  off  into  frigid 

87 "  Winged  she  was,  and  standing  upon  a  gloabe,  as 
decyphering  her  mutabilitie.  ...  In  the  left  hande,  a  wheele, 
which  she  tourneth  about  continually  .  .  .  thereby  giving 
us  to  understand,"  etc.  The  verses  end  with  this  couplet: 

"  Which  embleme  tels  vs  the  inconstant  state, 

Of  such  as  trust  to  Fortune  or  to  Fate." 
nPost,  pp.  417-421. 
""Menaphon"  (VI),  36  ff. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  403 

mythology.  He  has  something  else  instead  of 
the  visual  sense:  he  has  an  unfailing  sense  for 
incident,  and  will  tell  what  happened  (not  a  bad 
substitute)  ;  together  with  an  unfailing  didactic 
vein  (a  very  bad  substitute  indeed).  The  first 
leads  him  to  change  subtly  the  description  of 
Europa  even  while  he  transcribes:  his  non-sen- 
suous, non-descriptive,  but  narrative  talent  rejects 
the  purely  descriptive,  elaborately  sensuous  de- 
tails of  Achilles  Tatius's  picture,  while  it  requires 
him  to  keep  those  details  which  tell  the  story. 
The  second — his  tendency  to  moralize — here  re- 
tains the  details  that  are  emblematic  of  the 
power  of  love,  which  he,  like  his  original,  means 
to  make  the  theme  of  further  discourse.  This 
allegorizing  didactic  vein  finds  the  fullest  expres- 
sion in  the  Emblems  that  are  scattered  broadcast 
up  and  down  Greene's  pages,  instead  of  true 
visual  imagery.40  Greene's  one  truly  pictorial 
description, — the  "  Europa  " — is  not  his  own,  but 
is  borrowed  whole  from  Achilles  Tatius;  and 
although  in  the  same  novel  with  it  are  two  other 
suggestions  for  e/cffrpda-eis (the  "  Fortune"  and  the 
"Perseus  and  Andromeda"),  yet  Greene's  weak 
visual  imagination  can  not  be  roused,  even  by  the 
highly  pictorial  Achilles  Tatius,  to  make  more 
than  an  allusion  out  of  the  one  and  an  emblem 
out  of  the  other. 

There  remain  in  Greene's  works  a  number  of 
incidents  and  motifs  whose  provenance  might 
perhaps  be  in  doubt  if  Greene's  acquaintance  with 
"  Clitophon  and  Leucippe "  were  in  doubt,  but 

40  Cf.  S.  L.  Wolff,  "  Greene  and  the  Italian  Renaissance," 
Englische  Studien,  vol.  37,  pp.  364,  369-72. 


404  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

which  may  now  safely  be  ascribed  to  the  influ- 
ence of  Achilles  Tatius.  Several  of  these  occur 
in  "  Carde  of  Fancie,"  one  of  that  group  of  three 
books, — the  other  two  being  "Arbasto"  and 
"  Morando  " — which,  belonging  to  the  early  mid- 
dle years  of  Greene's  literary  activity  (1584- 
1587),  show  Achilles  Tatius's  influence  upon  him 
at  its  height.  Guydonius,  in  a  soliloquy  over- 
heard by  his  enemy  Valericus,  discloses  both  his 
parentage  and  his  love  affair  with  Castania 
("Carde  of  Fancie,"  IV.  153-7).  So  in  A.  T., 
VI.  xvi,  Leucippe,  in  a  soliloquy  overheard  by 
her  enemy  Thersander,  discloses  both  her  par- 
entage and  her  love  affair  with  Clitophon.  The 
defiant  tirade  of  Castania  in  prison  ("  Carde  of 
Fancie,"  IV.  171),  is  reminiscent  of  Leucippe's 
tirade  against  Thersander  (A.  T.,  VI.  xxii), 
though  far  inferior.  The  double  wedding  at  the 
end  of  "  Carde  of  Fancie  " — a  brother  and  a  sister 
marrying  respectively  a  sister  and  a  brother — 
looks  like  an  intensified  repetition  of  Achilles 
Tatius's  double  wedding — of  Clitophon  to  Leu- 
cippe and  of  his  sister  Calligone  to  Callistratus. 

In  "Morando"  (III),  76, — (another  member 
of  the  same  group  of  books) — "Being  all  pleas- 
antlie  disposed,  they  passed  away  to  supper  with 
manye  pretie  parlees,  Don  Silvestro  only  ex- 
cepted,  who  was  in  his  dumps :  for  the  beautie  of 
Lacena  had  alreadie  so  battered  the  bulwarke  of 
his  breast,  and  had  so  quatted  his  stomacke  with 
her  excellent  qualities,  that  he  onely  fed  his  eyes 
in  noting  the  exquisit  perfection  of  her  person" 
— a  reminiscence  of  A.  T.,  I.  v,  and  V.  xiii. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  405 

Immediately  after  the  1584-7  group  there  fol- 
low "  Pandosto  "  (published  1588)  and  "  Alcida  " 
(licensed  December  9,  1588).  Each  contains  a 
momentary  reminiscence  of  "  Clitophon  and  Leu- 
cippe."  In  "  Alcida  "  ( IX ) ,  83,  Meribates, "  early 
in  a  morning  stepped  into  her  [Eriphila's]  bed 
chamber,  where  finding  her  betweene  halfe  sleep- 
ing and  waking "  he  said,  "  Sweet  mistresse,  I 
feele  in  my  mind,  a  perilous  and  mortall  conflict 
between  feare  and  love."  (Cf.  Clitophon's  con- 
flicting emotions  in  Leucippe's  chamber,  A.  T., 
II.  xxiii.) 

In  "Pandosto,"  IV.  310,  311,  314,  Fawnia  is 
wooed  by  Pandosto  with  threats  and  verbal  abuse 
which  distinctly  recall  Thersander's  brutal  court- 
ship of  Leucippe  (A.  T.,  xix-xx;  VII.  i). 

"  Philomela,"  published  only  in  the  year  of 
Greene's  death  (1592),  was  "written  long  since," 
as  he  says  in  his  Epistle  Dedicatory  (p.  109)  ;  and 
"  hatched  long  agoe,  though  now  brought  forth  to 
light"  ("To  the  Gentlemen  Readers,"  p.  113). 
Indeed,  it  belongs  not  to  the  late  realistic  group 
with  which  it  appears,  but  rather,  in  kind,  to  the 
1584-7  group,  or  to  the  "  Pandosto "-"  Mena- 
phon  "  group  of  1588-9. 

Philomela's  commitment  of  herself  to  a  ship 
whose  destination  she  does  not  know  or  care  to 
know  has  already  (ante,  p.  389)  been  compared 
with  the  similar  embarkation  of  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe.  The  denouement  of  "  Philomela"  in  a 
final  trial-scene  is  obviously  modelled  upon  the 
corresponding  scene  in  Achilles  Tatius.  In  "  Phi- 
lomela" (XI),  199-203,  Philippo,  weary  of  living 


406  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

because  repentant  of  his  cruelty  to  his  wife 
Philomela,  accuses  himself  of  a  murder  that  he 
may  gain  the  boon  of  death.  The  person  sup- 
posed to  have  been  murdered  is  all  the  while  alive 
and  well,  and  appears  in  court  in  time  to  save 
him.  There  are  other  particulars  of  this  scene 
which  point  to  Sidney's  "Arcadia"  as  an  addi- 
tional model,  but  so  much  is  equally  attributable 
to  the  bizarre  situation  at  Clitophon's  trial  (A.  T., 
VII.  vi-xiii;  VIII.  ix)  ;  where  Clitophon  to  gain 
the  boon  of  death  accuses  himself  of  the  murder 
of  Leucippe,  who  is  all  the  while  alive  and  well, 
and  who  actually  appears  at  the  second  session  of 
the  court. 

Last  of  these  miscellaneous  borrowings  from 
Achilles  Tatius  is  a  scene  in  Greene's  "  Groats- 
worth"  (XII),  119-126.  Roberto  has  introduced 
his  brother  Lucanio  to  the  courtesan  Lamilia,  with 
whom  he  has  arranged  to  fleece  the  victim  and 
share  the  spoil.  Finding  them  amorous,  he  re- 
marks that  "some  crosse  chaunce  may  come.  .  .  . 
And  for  a  warning  to  teach  you  both  wit,  He  tell 
you  an  old  wiues  tale.  Before  ye  go  on  with 
your  tale  (quoth  Mistresse  Lamilia)  let  me  give 
ye  a  caueat  by  the  way,  which  shall  be  figured  in 
a  Fable."  She  tells  the  Fable  of  the  Fox,  the 
Badger  and  the  Ewe, — showing  that  she  distrusts 
Roberto.  He  then  tells  the  Novella  of  the  Farmer 
Bridegroom,  as  if  to  show  "  the  effects  of  sodaine 
love,"  but  really  to  hint  that  there's  many  a  slip 
'twixt  the  cup  and  the  lip,  and  that  she  had  better 
play  fair  by  him,  or  he'll  spoil  the  game.  This 
reciprocal  telling  of  tales  to  convey  a  covert  warn- 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  407 

ing  probably  was  suggested  by  the  scene  (A.  T., 
II.  xx-xxii)  where  Conops  and  Satyrus  exchange 
fables  with  like  purpose. 

Such  is  the  influence  of  Achilles  Tatius  upon 
Greene.  In  only  a  single  case — "Arbasto,"  where 
it  gives  him  his  narrative  framework,  faults  and 
all,  does  it  even  approach  the  creative  imagina- 
tion at  work.  Everywhere  else  it  gives  either 
single  scenes,  which  Greene  rather  copies  than 
imitates,  or,  still  more  superficially,  ornament  that 
is  non-structural,  that  is  easily  detachable,  and 
that  again  is  not  so  much  inspired  by  Achilles 
Tatius  as  transcribed  from  him.  All  this  is  quite 
consonant  with  the  superficiality  both  of  Greene 
and  of  Achilles  Tatius.  Greene,  if  anything,  is 
the  shallower  of  the  two.  He  is  blind  where 
Achilles  Tatius  has  a  seeing  eye;  he  can  draw  no 
character,  whereas  Achilles  Tatius  finds  some 
characters  within  his  range ;  he  cannot  sustain  a 
plot  beyond  novella-length,  whereas  Achilles 
Tatius  keeps  up  both  interest  and  coherence 
throughout  his  eight  books;  he  is  the  slave  of 
Fortune,  Achilles  Tatius  only  her  worshiper.  On 
the  other  hand,  where  Achilles  Tatius  is  gross, 
Greene  is  unstained ;  where  Achilles  Tatius  wan- 
ders, Greene  clings  to  the  tale  because  he  will  tell 
what  happened ;  and  where  Achilles  Tatius's  lust 
of  the  eye  lures  him  aside,  Greene's  innocent 
blindness  keeps  him  in  the  path.  But  their  love 
of  clap-trap  and  tinsel,  their  essential  superficial- 
ity, makes  them  kin.  Given  Greene  and  Achilles 
Tatius  in  contact  at  all,  Greene  is  sure  to  take 
from  his  predecessor  much  the  sort  of  thing  we 


408  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

have  found  him  actually  taking.  Precisely  so  far 
as  Greene's  work  belongs  to  the  literature  of  illu- 
sion, it  is  fed  by  the  work  of  Achilles  Tatius. 


Not  so  with  Heliodorus.  Greene's  contact 
with  the  "^Ethiopica"  is  a  contact  on  Greene's 
best  side,  the  side  that  at  least  endeavors  to  be 
real;  the  side  that  at  least  endeavors  to  draw 
character,  to  construct  plot,  to  depict  monumental 
background.  Greene's  predilection  for  a  suffer- 
ing heroine  produces  if  not  a  character,  at  least 
a  type;  his  employment  of  oracles  and  recogni- 
tion goes,  in  intention  at  least,  to  the  foundation 
of  his  plot;  and  his  striving  for  "pathetic" 
ensemble-scenes  is  itself  pathetic.  What  matter 
that  he  fails,  sometimes  absurdly,  in  each  of  these 
endeavors?  Like  his  model,  Heliodorus,  magnis 
e.vcidit  ausis.  And  it  was  the  happy  destiny  of 
one  of  Greene's  Heliodorean  plots,  adorned  with 
pastoral  detail  from  Longus,  to  be  caught  up  by 
Shakespeare,  and  translated. 

Greene  three  times  alludes  by  name  to  Thea- 
genes  and  Chariclea.  In  "  Mamillia  "  (II.  67), 
Mamillia  acknowledges  her  love  to  Pharicles : 
"be  thou  but  Theagines  [sic],  and  I  will  try  my 
selfe  to  be  more  constant  then  Caniclia  [sic]  :  no 
torments,  no  trauayle,  no,  onelye  the  losse  of  life 
shall  diminishe  my  love."  Pharicles  later,  in  love 
with  Publia,  reproaches  himself  for  his  incon- 
stancy. After  citing  Regulus  and  others  who  kept 
faith,  he  concludes  (ib.,  91) :  "  What  perilles  suf- 
fered Theagines  to  keepe  his  credit  with  Caricha 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  409 

[sic]  ?  Pharicles,  let  these  examples  mooue  thee 
to  be  loyall  to  Mamillia."  In  "  Alcida  "  ( IX) ,  80, 
Eriphila,  like  Pharicles,  reproves  her  own  incon- 
stancy, and  in  almost  the  same  words.  She  cites 
two  of  the  same  antique  examples,  modifying 
them  so  as  to  make  the  woman  the  pattern  of 
fidelity,  and  concludes :  "  What  perils  suffered 
Cariclia  for  Theagynesf  " — Greene  also  mentions 
the  Gymnosophists :  "Mamillia"  (II),  164,  278, 
"Morando"  (III),  118. 

The  assertion  that  future  evils,  though  not  pre- 
ventable, are  mitigated  when  foreseen  by  means 
of  astrology,  occurs  in  Heliodorus  (II.  xxiv),and 
is  imitated  by  Achilles  Tatius  (I.  iii).  Greene's 
repetition  of  it  resembles  rather  the  former  pas- 
sage. "  Planetomachia "  (V),  25-6:  "This  sci- 
ence ('  astronomic  '  =  astrology)  is  very  profi- 
table to  them  that  use  it  well.  For  whereas  by  a 
perfect  calculation  prosperitie  and  fortunate  suc- 
cesse  is  prognosticated  unto  us,  they  breede  in  us 
a  delightfull  hope  that  they  shall  ensue :  but  when 
any  sinister  mishappes  are  foreshadowed  and 
foreseene,  then  they  are  less  greeuous,  because 
they  are  warely  lookt  for,  and  so  by  time  the 
burden  of  such  insuing  daungers,  by  a  promdent 
foresight  is  somewhat  mittigated." 

Like  Heliodorus's,  too,  are  some  of  Greene's 
uses  of  Fortune.  As  regards  her  function  of 
bringing  about  shipwreck,  it  would  be  risky  to 
assert  in  general  that  one  of  the  Greek  Romances 
was  Greene's  source,  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
other.  But  in  "Arbasto"  (III),  178  ff.,  it  has 
been  seen  (ante,  p.  393),  the  association  of 


410  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

the  shipwreck  with  Sidon,  Astarte,  etc.,  stamps 
it  definitely  as  coming  from  Achilles  Tatius.  In 
the  same  way,  in  "  Pandosto  "  (IV)  the  associa- 
tion of  the  two  shipwrecks  with  the  oracle,  and 
with  the  exposure  and  the  restoration  of  a  child, 
stamps  them  as  part  of  a  more  fundamental  and 
grandiose  plan  of  the  Heliodorean  kind,  wherein 
Fortune  serves  as  an  instrument  to  work  out 
higher  ends.  In  "Menaphon"  (VI), 42,  likewise, 
the  shipwreck  follows  closely  upon  the  oracle,  and 
the  denouement  again  consists  of  recognition,  re- 
union and  restoration,  with  very  specific  resem- 
blances to  the  denouement  of  the  "yEthiopica" 
(see  post,  pp.  426-8).  But  the  influence  of 
Sidney's  "  Arcadia  "  upon  "  Menaphon  "  is  as  un- 
mistakable as  that  of  the  "yEthiopica " ;  and 
with  regard  to  elements  common  both  to  Sidney 
and  to  Heliodorus,  like  the  oracle  and  the  ship- 
wreck, it  would  be  difficult  to  say  which  influence 
preponderates. 

Beyond  doubt,  however,  is  the  source  of 
Greene's  habit  of  speaking  of  Fortune  as  a  maker 
of  theatrical  situations,  comic  or  tragic.  Mariana, 
cast  away,  and  by  shipwreck  bereft  of  husband 
and  children,  whom  she  believes  to  have  perished, 
exclaims  ("Perimedes"  (VII),  26):  "  Dispaire 
and  die,  so  shalt  thou  glut  the  rutheless  destinies 
with  a  most  balefull  stratageme ;  since  thy  hus- 
band, thy  children,  have  bene  the  first  actors,  end 
thou  desperatly  such  a  dolefull  tragedie:  let  for- 
tune see  how  thou  scornest  to  be  infortunate." — 
A  speech  not  in  Boccaccio. 

And  at  the  end  of  the  Second  Tale,  ib.,  51, 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  411 

"  Fortune  willing  after  so  sharpe  a  Catastrophe, 
to  induce  a  comicall  conclusion,"  reunited  Alci- 
medes  and  Constance.  In  "Pandosto"  (IV), 
258-262,  the  sudden  death  of  Garinter,  the  heir 
to  the  Kingdom,  and  of  his  mother  the  Queen, 
together  with  the  King's  desperation  at  the  news, 
is  spoken  of  as  a  "  tragicall  discourse  of  fortune." 
In  "Philomela"  (XI),  155,  "Fortune  whose 
enuye  is  to  subuert  content,  and  whose  delight  is 
to  turn  comicke  mirth  into  tragicke  sorrowes, 
entered  into  the  Theater  of  Philomelas  lyfe,  and 
beganne  to  act  a  baleful  seane  .  .  ."41 

The  predilection  for  female  character  has  often 
been  remarked  as  characteristic  of  Greene.  To 
say  that  he  derived  it  from  Heliodorus  would  of 
course  be  "to  reason  too  curiously";  but  it  is 
worth  noting  again  as  one  of  the  traits  that  at 
least  lay  Greene  open  to  the  influence  of  Greek 
Romance: — like  his  predilection  for  pastoral,  or 
his  "  tychomania."  And  in  more  than  one  re- 
spect its  results  coincide  with  those  of  the  same 
predilection  in  Heliodorus.  Most  of  Greene's  fe- 
male characters  suffer  and  are  true ;  his  conven- 
tional misogynistic  passages,  and  his  few  sketches 
of  wicked  women,  are  far  outweighed  by  his 
stories  of  women's  chastity,  fidelity  and  forti- 
tude.42 Incidentally,  also,  some  of  these  excellent 

41  Similar  passages  :  "  Perimedes"  (VII),  47  ;  "Pandosto" 
(IV),  317;  "Carde  of  Fancie "  (IV),  192;  "Never  too 
Late"  (VIII),  60-61. 

43  "  Mamillia  "  is  avowedly  a  defence  of  women  against 
their  maligners,  and  is  expressly  philogynistic :  (II),  106-7, 
162-3,  173.  260-1.  Its  plot  rests  upon  the  fidelity  of 
Mamillia  and  Publia,  and  the  treachery  of  Pharicles,  who 
is  a  "mutable  Machauilian  "  (205).  The  appended  Anato- 


412  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

ladies,  in  learning  to  outwit  Fortune  by  squirm- 
ing, acquire  a  skill  in  dissimulation43  that  would 
do  credit  to  Chariclea.  And  on  the  other  side, 
Greene's  wicked  types  include  not  only  the  court- 
esan,44 but  also  the  amorous  woman,46  the  De- 
maeneta  and  Arsace  of  the  "^thiopica."  The 
policy  of  dissimulation,  too,  extends  to  Greene's 
men  ;46  the  "  Machiavellianism  "  of  the  Renais- 
sance here  coinciding  with  the  Greek  Romance 
hero's  reliance  upon  his  nimble  wits.  These  types 
are  scarcely  worth  dwelling  upon,  for  they  are 
types  and  nothing  more;  still  they  are  much  the 

mie  of  Louers  Flatteries,  in  a  letter  from  Mamillia  to 
Modesta,  offers  (254)  a  counterblast  to  each  of  Ovid's 
attacks  upon  women.  To  the  De  Arte  Amandi,  which 
teaches  men  how  to  inveigle  women,  Greene  opposes  (255- 
264)  directions  how  to  resist  "  the  fained  assault  of  mens 
pretended  flatterie " ;  to  the  De  Remedio  Amoris,  which 
(254)  teaches  men  "  to  restraine  their  affections  from  plac- 
ing their  fancies  but  for  a  time,"  Greene  opposes  his 
remedy  (264-6)  for  ladies  in  love.  But  all  this  does  not 
preclude  (54,  221-2)  the  usual  witticisms  ae  conjuge  non 
ducenda,  and  concerning  women's  fickleness. — Other  suffer- 
ing  heroines:  Myrania  ("Arbasto"),  Castania  ("  Carde  of 
Fancie"),  Bellaria  and  Fawnia  ("  Pandosto "),  Pasylla 
("  Planetomachia "),  Barmenissa  ("Penelopes  Web"), 
Sephestia  ("  Menaphon  "),  Mariana  and  Constance  ("  Peri- 
medes"),  Isabel  ("Never  too  Late"  and  "  Francescos 
Fortunes"),  Maesia  and  Semiramis  ("Farewell  to  Follie"), 
Philomela  ("Philomela"),  Theodora  ("Vision"),  Argen- 
tina ("  Orpharion  "). 

43  Pasylla,  in  "Planetomachia"  (V),  78;  Sephestia,  in 
"Menaphon"  (VI),  52,  63. 

"Clarinda  ("Mamillia"),  Olinda  ("Penelopes  Web"), 
Infida  ("  Never  too  Late  "  and  "  Francescos  Fortunes  "), 
not  named  in  "  Mourning  Garment,"  Lamilia  ("  Groats- 
worth  "). 

48  Rhodope   ("Planetomachia"),  Maedyna   ("Censure"). 

48  Pharicles  ("Mamillia"),  Arbasto  ("Arbasto"),  Pan- 
dosto ("  Pandosto  "). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  413 

same  types  that  Fortune  evolves  in  Greek  Ro- 
mance. 

Greene's  strength  lies,  however,  not  in  charac- 
ter but  in  incident.  Greene  borrows  many  inci- 
dental situations,  motifs,  tags,  and  bits  of  orna- 
ment from  Heliodorus.  Among  such  minor,  non- 
structural,  borrowings,  is  what  Brunhuber  (p. 
22)  calls  "  das  Eros  Motiv":  a  youth  or  maiden, 
once  an  enemy  to  love  and  a  contemner  of  the 
cult,  rites,  or  deity  of  Venus  or  Cupid,  falls  a 
victim  to  the  vengeance  of  the  gods  of  love,  and 
becomes  love's  slave.  So  it  was  with  Chariclea 
before  she  met  Theagenes;  so  (in  imitation  of 
Heliodorus)  with  Clitophon  before  he  met  Leu- 
cippe;  so  with  Euthynicus  and  the  nymph  Rho- 
dopis,  whose  metamorphosis  is  related  as  an  epi- 
sode by  Achilles  Tatius  (VIII.  xii).  This  theme 
goes  back  to  the  story  of  Hippolytus,  or  further, 
is  a  favorite  motif  of  the  Alexandrians  and  their 
imitators,  is  found  in  Ovid  and  Virgil,  and  revives 
in  the  Renaissance,  e.  g.,  in  Poliziano's  "La 
Giostra"  (I.  st.  12-44).  Sidney,  as  has  been 
seen  (ante,  p.  308),  uses  it  (and  uses  it  structur- 
ally) as  the  motive  force  of  his  episode  of  An- 
tiphilus  and  Erona.  In  view  of  these  other  pos- 
sible sources,  an  unqualified  assertion  that  Greene 
took  his  "  Eros  Motiv  "  from  Heliodorus  would 
not  be  justified.  The  present  merely  seems  a  con- 
venient place  at  which  to  mention  this  borrowing. 
Greene  uses  it,  as  has  been  said,  not  structurally, 
but  ornamentally.  So  in  "  Alcida"  (IX),  90-91, 
"  Venus  seeing  how  my  daughter  Marpesia  lived 
carelesse  of  her  loves,  and  never  sent  so  much  as 


4H  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

one  sigh  to  Paphos  for  a  sacrifice:  shee  called 
Ciipid,  complaining  that  shee  was  atheist  to  her 
deitie,  and  one  opposed  to  her  principles :  where- 
upon the  boy  at  his  mothers  becke  drewe  out  an 
invenomed  arrow,  and  levelling  at  Marpesia,  hit 
her  under  the  right  pappe."  Now  the  point  of 
the  story  of  Marpesia  is  not  her  disdainfulness, 
but  her  inability  to  keep  a  secret;  so  that  the 
~Eros-motif  really  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
story.  It  is  used  similarly,  to  adorn  a  lover's 
soliloquy  or  as  an  ornate  fashion  of  saying  that 
someone  fell  in  love,  in  "  Carde  of  Fancie  "  (IV), 
66;  "Pandosto"  (IV),  275;  "  Planetomachia " 
(V),  57-59,  129;  "Perimedes"  (VII),  69-71 
(repetition  of  first  passage  in  "Planetomachia")  ; 
"Menaphon"  (VI),  37-42,  49,  55;  "Tullies 
Love"  (VII),  1 06,  109. 

More  certainly  borrowed  from  Heliodorus  are 
the  incidents  following.  In  "Philomela"  (XI), 
173,  the  captain  of  the  ship  in  which  the  heroine 
makes  her  voyage  to  Sicily  falls  in  love  with  her, 
and  determines  that  she  shall  be  his,  will  she  nill 
she.  Just  so  does  the  Phoenician  captain  fall  in 
love  with  his  fair  passenger  Chariclea  ("^Ethio- 
pica").  The  captain  of  Philomela's  ship,  pur- 
suant to  his  resolution,  steps  to  the  door  of  her 
cabin,  and  overhears  her  soliloquizing  within, 
and  calling  herself  by  the  assumed  name  Ab- 
stemia.  ("Philomela,"  174-5).  This  parallels 
the  situation  in  the  "yEthiopica"  (V.  ii)  where 
Cnemon  at  Chariclea's  door  overhears  her  solilo- 
quizing within  and  calling  herself  by  the  assumed 
name  Thisbe.  Achilles  Tatius  also  imitated  this 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  415 

passage  (A.  T.,  VI.  xvi),  letting  Thersander 
overhear  Leucippe  call  herself  Lacaena.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  incident  in  "  Philomela  "  Greene 
takes  from  Sidney's  "Arcadia"  (III.  vi,  264- 
264v),  where  Cecropia  at  Pamela's  door  over- 
hears her  prayer  and  vow  of  chastity,  and  is 
abashed.  So  the  Captain  at  Philomela's  door 
overhears  her  vow  of  chastity,  is  abashed,  and 
resolves  to  treat  her  with  reverence.  In  "  Mena- 
phon  "  ( VI ) ,  62,  Sephestia  ( Samela) ,  banished  by 
her  father  the  King  of  Arcadia,  but  shipwrecked 
upon  the  Arcadian  coast,  exclaims :  "  My  natiue 
home  is  my  worst  nurserie,  and  my  friends  denie 
that  which  strangers  .  .  .  grant" — viz.,  hospi- 
tality. Both  the  situation  and  the  antithetic 
phrasing  are  similar  to  those  in  "^thiopica,"  X. 
xvi,  where  Hydaspes  exclaims  (U  272-3)  :  "My 
daughter  .  .  .  which  hast  in  an  ill  time  hapned 
upon  thine  owne  countrey,  worse  to  thee  then 
any  strange  lande,  who  hast  bene  safe  in  other 
countreyes,  but  art  in  danger  of  death  in  thine 
owne  .  .  .  ."  In  "  Planetomachia "  (V),  129, 
Rhodope,  wife  of  Psammetichus,  King  of  Mem- 
phis, falls  in  love  with  her  stepson  Philarkes,  and 
shows  him  favor.  Now  Aelian  tells  ("Var. 
Hist.,"  XIII.  33)  only  the  story  of  Psamme- 
tichus's  infatuation  with  the  beauty  of  Rhodopis's 
sandal,  which  an  eagle  had  snatched  up  and  drop- 
ped in  his  lap,  and  of  their  subsequent  marriage : 
he  says  nothing  about  a  stepson.47  Greene  tells 
the  earlier  part  of  the  story — the  part  about  the 

*r  Neither  does  Herodotus  (II.  134,  135)  or  Pliny 
(XXXVI.  17).  (Herodotus,  like  Heliodorus,  says  that  Rho- 
dopis  was  a  Thracian.) 


416  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

eagle,  the  sandal,  and  the  marriage;  and  then 
proceeds  to  invent  Philarkes  and  the  guilty  pas- 
sion of  his  stepmother.  Not  quite  invent,  either, 
for  in  the  "^thiopica  "  he  finds  a  Rhodopis  at 
Memphis  tempting  Calasiris  (II.  xxv)  ;  again  at 
Memphis  he  finds  Arsace  tempting  Theagenes 
(VII.  xiiiff) ;  and  he  finds  the  guilty  passion  of 
Demaeneta  for  her  stepson  Cnemon48  (I.  ix-xii, 
xiv-xvii).  These  he  compounds,  either  inde- 
pendently, or,  as  is  more  probable,  under  the 
additional  influence  of  Sidney's  story  ("Old 
Arcadia,"  Clifford  MS.,  76v.)  of  Amasis  and  his 
stepmother, — a  tale  oddly  enough  also  located  at 
Memphis.49  (See  ante,  p.  348,  and  post,  Ap.  B, 
p.  473-5.)  The  origin  of  the  whole  series  is  of 
course  the  story  of  Phaedra  and  Hippolytus; 
while  one  of  the  scenes  in  Greene's  treatment  of 
it — the  visit  of  Rhodope  to  Philarkes  where  he 
lies  lovesick — is  probably  from  the  quasi-his- 
torical legend  of  Stratonice  and  Antiochus.  Last 
among  these  minor  borrowings  of  Greene  from 
Heliodorus  may  be  noted  the  situation,  in  "  Carde 
of  Fancie"  (IV),  191,  where  Gwydonius,  in  com- 

48  It  is  rather  a  temptation  to  think  that  Greene's  novella 
of  the  Farmer  Bridegroom — "  Groatsworth  "  (XII),  121-6 — 
with  its  double  deception,  double  rendezvous,  qui  pro  quo 
in  the  dark,  and  discovery,  may  owe  something  to  Helio- 
dorus's   novella  of  the  intrigues  of   Cnemon,   Thisbe,   and 
Demaeneta — "^Ethiopica,"  I.  ix-xii,  xiv-xvii ;  but  the  abun- 
dance of  similar  material  in  fabliaux  and  Italian  novelle 
would  render   any   assertion   of   influence   here   extremely 
hazardous. 

49  Rhodope  or  Rhodopis  is  alluded  to  in  "  Euphues,"  II. 
166—7,  and  in   Greene  as  follows:   "  Mamillia "    (II),  200, 
230,  280;  "Carde  of  Fancie"   (IV),  62;  "Debate"  (IV), 
219;    "  Planetomachia "    (V),    104   ff;    "Penelopes   Web" 
(V),  175  (which  also  mentions  Philarkes). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  417 

bat  with  his  father  Clerophontes,  "alwaies  re- 
ceived the  strokes,  but  never  so  much  as  re- 
turned one  blow:  till  at  last  looking  aloft,  and 
spying  Castania  [his  mistress],  his  courage  in- 
creased, that,  all  feare  set  aside,  he  carelessly 
flung  away  his  sword  and  shield  and  ranne  upon 
his  Father,"  made  him  yield,  and  was  proclaimed 
the  victor.  It  is  scarcely  to  be  doubted  that 
Greene  had  in  mind  the  moment  ("^th.,"  IV. 
iv)  when  Theagenes,  fixing  his  eyes  upon  Chari- 
clea,  wins  the  race. 

This  same  scene, — the  denouement  of  "  Carde 
of  Fancie  " — may  be  considered,  too,  as  the  first 
of  Greene's  major  borrowings  from  Heliodorus, 
— borrowings  of  more  than  single  situations, 
phrases  or  incidents,  borrowings  that  are  not 
merely  ornamental,  but  structural.  Here  we 
have  in  fact,  Greene's  earliest  attempt  to  write 
an  ensemble-scene  in  Heliodorus's  manner.  As 
has  been  remarked,  the  scene  is  structural,  in  that 
it  forms  the  denouement;  there  is  a  trial  by  battle  ; 
this  offers  a  spectacle  for  a  numerous  assemblage, 
whose  life  and  death  depend  upon  the  issue  of  the 
combat,  and  who  show  appropriate  pathos  (pp. 
189-90:  ".  .  .  all  the  Lords  of  Alexandria,  clad 
in  mourning  attire  .  .  .  ,  thinking  this  dismall  day 
should  be  the  date  of  their  destruction  " ;  while, 
upon  Gwydonius's  victory — p.  191,  "they  of 
Alexandria  gaue  a  mightie  shout")  ;  here  are  the 
hero  and  the  heroine ;  here  is  the  spectacular  mo- 
ment when  he,  looking  up,  sees  her,  gains  re- 
newed courage,  and  in  her  sight  wins  victory; 
here,  finally  is  the  hero's  theatrical  disclosure  of 
28 


418  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

his  identity,  and  recognition  by  his  father,  so  that 
(p.  192)  "Fernandas  and  Orlanio  stoode  aston- 
ished at  this  strange  tragedie."  Though  ill- 
written,  this  passage  contains  nearly  every  in- 
gredient of  the  great  scenes  of  the  "JEthiopica.," 
and  gives  token  of  the  deepening  of  Heliodorus's 
influence  upon  Greene. 

Structural  too  are  the  ensemble  scenes  in 
"Tullies  Love"  and  in  "Philomela."  At  the 
Senate  House  (VII.  212-13),  "before  the  whole 
state  of  Rome,"  there  is  held  a  trial  of  the  dis- 
pute between  Cicero  and  Lentulus  on  the  one 
side  and  Fabius  on  the  other.  Cicero  delivers  an 
oration ;  the  bystanders  are  duly  moved ;  and  the 
scene  brings  the  story  to  its  end.  In  "  Philo- 
mela" (XI),  167,  the  heroine's  jealous  husband, 
Philippe,  publicly  accuses  her  and  his  friend 
Lutesio  of  unchastity.  He  makes  his  speech  be- 
fore the  Duke,  Councillors  and  people  of  Venice. 
"  And  heer  Philippo  ceased,  driuing  al  the  hearers 
into  a  great  mase,  that  the  Duke  sate  astonished, 
the  Consigliadori  musing,  and  the  common  people 
murmuring  .  .  .  and  bending  their  enuious  eyes 
against  the  two  innocents";  who,  after  sentence 
has  been  pronounced  against  them,  make 
speeches.  Later,  Philomela's  father,  the  Duke 
of  Milan,  comes  to  Venice  to  avenge  the  injury 
done  to  his  daughter.  He  has  received  from  one 
of  the  two  Genoese  who  swore  against  her  a 
confession  that  their  testimony  was  false.  There 
is  a  second  trial-scene.  Philippo,  summoned  to 
the  Senate  House,  brings  with  him  the  other 
perjured  Genoese,  who  likewise  confesses ;  where- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  419 

upon  (ib.,  189)  "there  was  a  great  shout  in  the 
Senat  house,  and  clapping  of  hands  amongest  the 
common  people."  Philippe  is  overcome  with  re- 
morse, and  acknowledges  his  sin.  Finally,  there 
is  still  a  third  trial  scene,  now  in  Palermo,  which 
brings  about  the  denouement  (ib.,  203).  Both 
Philippo  and  Philomela  having  accused  them- 
selves of  the  murder  of  the  Duke's  son,  the  young 
man  appears  alive.  "  At  this  the  Duke  start 
uppe,  and  all  the  standers  by  were  in  a  mase." 
And  when  it  further  appeared  that  Philomela  had 
accused  herself  in  order  to  save  her  husband, 
"  the  Sicilians  at  this,  looking  Philomela  in  the 
face,  shouted  at  her  wondrous  vertues,  and 
Philippo  in  a  sound  betweene  greefe  and  ioy  was 
carried  away  halfe  dead."  Pathos,  evidently,  and 
"  pathetic  optics,"50  exhibited  in  a  structural  en- 
semble-scene. 

"*  Almost  overdone  is  the  "  pathetic  optics  "  of  the  scene 
in  "  Menaphon  "  (VI),  71-3,  where  Melicertus  and  Samela 
meet  at  the  shepherds'  feast.  When  she  entered,  "  her 
eyes  gaue  such  a  shine,  and  her  face  such  a  brightnesse, 
that  they  stood  gazing  on  this  Goddesse."  She  blushed  so 
that  the  girls  themselves  loved  her.  Doron  jogged  Meli- 
certus (Maximus  disguised)  who  "  was  deeply  drowned 
in  the  contemplation  of  her  excellencie ;  sending  out  vol- 
lies  of  sighs  in  remembrance  of  his  old  loue,  as  thus  he 
sate  meditating  of  her  favour,  how  much  she  resembled 
her  that  death  had  deprived  him  off  ...  Menaphon  seeing 
Samela  thus  honoured,  conceiued  no  small  content  ...  in- 
somuch that  euerie  one  perceived  howe  the  poore  swayne 
fedde  vpon  the  dignities  of  his  Mistres  graces.  Pesana 
[in  love  with  M.]  noting  this,  began  to  lowre,  and  Carmela 
[M.'s  sister]  winking  upon  her  fellowes,  answered  her 
frownes  with  a  smile,  which  doubled  her  griefe.  .  .  .  Whiles 
thus  there  was  banding  of  such  lookes,  as  euerie  one  im- 
ported as  much  as  an  impreso,  Samela,  willing  to  see  the 
fashion  of  these  countrey  yong  f rowes,  cast  her  eyes  abroad, 
and  in  viewing  euerie  face,  at  last  her  eyes  glanced  on  the 


420  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

The  vindication  of  chastity  by  public  trial  oc- 
curs four  times504  in  Greene's  works.  Twice  it 
is  based  wholly  upon  the  story  of  Susanna: 
"Myrrour  of  Modestie"  (III)  and  "  Francescos 
Fortunes  "  (VIII).  In  "  Philomela,"  as  just  set 
forth,  Greene  retains  from  the  story  of  Susanna 
the  false  witnesses,  but  adds  the  eloquentia  and 
pathos  of  Greek  Romance.  At  its  fourth  occur- 
rence— in  "Pandosto"  (IV),  258-262, — Greene 
has  wholly  discarded  the  scriptural — or  apocry- 
phal— tradition,  and  has  enriched  his  theme,  itself 
Heliodorean,  with  several  elements  from  Helio- 
dorus  besides  the  eloquentia  and  pathos  already 
mentioned.  In  fact,  the  trial  scene  in  "  Pan- 
dosto" is  Greene's  most  ambitious  effort  in  this 
kind.  Pandosto  having  accused  his  Queen,  Bel- 
laria,  of  unchastity,  has  sent  to  consult  Apollo's 
oracle  upon  the  question.  The  embassy  returns 
from  Delphi  with  the  answer,  sealed.  It  is  to  be 
opened  in  the  hall  of  judgment,  in  the  presence 

lookes  of  Melicertus;  whose  countenance  resembled  so  vnto 
her  dead  Lord,  that  as  a  woman  astonied  she  stood  staring 
on  his  face ;  but  ashamed  to  gaze  vpon  a  stranger  she 
made  restraint  of  her  looks,  and  so  taking  her  eye  from 
one  particular  object,  she  sent  it  abroad  to  make  general 
survey  of  their  countrey  demanours.  But  amidst  all  this 
gazing,  he  that  had  scene  poore  Menaphon,  how,  infected 
with  a  iealous  furie,  he  stared  each  man  in  the  face,  fear- 
ing their  eyes  should  feed  or  surfet  on  his  Mistres  beautie : 
if  they  glaunst  he  thought  straight  they  would  be  riualls 
.  .  . ;  if  they  flatlie  lookt,  then  there  were  deeply  snared  ; 
if  they  once  smiled  on  her,  they  had  receyued  some  glance 
from  Samela  that  made  them  so  malepart ;  if  she  laught, 
she  likte  ;  and  at  that  he  began  to  frowne :  thus  sate  poore 
Menaphon,  all  dinner  while,  pained  with  a  thousand  iealous 
passions,  keeping  .  .  .  his  eyes  watchmen  of  his  loues." 

60a  Five  times,  if  the  denouement  of  "  Menaphon "  be 
counted.  (See  post,  pp.  426-428.) 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  42 1 

of  the  nobles  and  commons,  before  the  accusing 
King  and  the  persecuted  Queen,  who  is  to  be 
acquitted  or  convicted  as  publicly  as  she  has  been 
accused.  The  oracle  is  read;  the  Queen  is 
cleared;  "the  commons  gaue  a  great  showt,  re- 
ioysing  and  clapping  their  hands  " ;  and  the  King 
confesses,  repents,  and  promises  amendment. 
But  at  this  moment,  word  is  brought  of  the  sud- 
den death  of  his  son  Garinter ;  "  which  newes  so 
soone  as  Bellaria  heard,  surcharged  before  with 
extreame  ioy,  and  now  suppressed  with  heauy 
sorrowe,  her  vitall  spirites  were  so  stopped,  that 
she  fell  downe  presently  dead";  "this  sodaine 
sight  so  appalled  the  King's  sences,  that  he  sanck 
from  his  seate  in  a  soud,"  was  carried  away,  and 
(p.  262)  remained  three  days  speechless.  "His 
commons  were  as  men  in  dispaire,  so  diuersly  dis- 
tressed: there  was  nothing  but  mourning  and 
lamentation  to  be  heard  throughout  al  Bohemia: 
.  .  .  this  tragicall  discourse  of  fortune  so  daunted 
them,  as  they  went  like  shadows,  not  men." 

Greene,  lacking  the  grandiose  descriptive  power 
of  Heliodorus,  the  sense  of  monumental  back- 
ground and  spectacle,  has  yet,  within  his  limita- 
tions, done  his  best  to  make  a  Heliodorean  scene. 
Here  we  have,  as  the  actuating  cause  of  the  as- 
semblage, an  oracle,  and  this  is  twice  (at  Delphos 
and  again  when  the  scroll  is  handed  to  the  King) 
kept  from  the  knowledge  of  the  personages  of 
the  story,  so  that  for  them  there  is  an  accumu- 
lation of  suspense,  which  increases  their  subse- 
quent pathos.  The  estates  of  the  realm  then 
solemnly  meet  in  a  great  ensemble  scene  in  the 


422  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Hall  of  Justice:  there  is  a  trial,  and,  at  that,  a 
trial  of  chastity.  This  the  oracle  vindicates  hier- 
atically.  The  assemblage  exhibits  the  appropriate 
pathos.  At  this  happy  moment,  affairs  take  a 
sudden  turn  for  the  worse:  Garinter  dies,  the 
Queen  dies,  the  King  is  stricken.  Again  there  is 
appropriate  pathos  on  the  part  of  the  spectators 
and  hearers.  They  and  the  author  call  the  series 
of  events  a  "  tragicall  discourse,"  and  attribute  it 
to  Fortune.  Finally,  the  scene  marks  the  trans- 
ition from  the  first  part  of  the  story,  which  deals 
with  the  fortunes  of  the  older  generation,  to  the 
second  part,  which  deals  with  the  fortunes  of  the 
younger.  In  its  relation  to  the  structure  of  the 
whole,  then,  as  well  as  in  its  internal  elements,  it 
is  strongly  reminiscent  of  the  ensemble  passages 
of  Heliodorus,  most  of  which  are  likewise  transi- 
tional; but  especially  reminiscent  of  his  denoue- 
ment, where  Chariclea's  chastity  is  vindicated, 
and  the  Delphic  oracle  fulfilled,  in  a  similar  scene 
of  spectacular  publicity,  pathos,  and  solemnity, 
with  similar  use  of  theatrical  terminology,  and 
similar  attribution  to  Fortune. 

It  is  the  use  of  the  Oracle,  instead  of  the  con- 
fession of  perjured  witnesses  to  vindicate  the 
heroine's  chastity,  that  chiefly  distinguishes  the 
trial  scene  in  "  Pandosto  "  from  that  in  "  Philo- 
mela." Greene's  employment  of  the  oracle,  here 
and  in  "  Menaphon,"  is  worth  dwelling  on.  In 
"  Pandosto,"  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  con- 
scious imitator  of  Heliodorus,  the  oracle  serves 
in  general  to  bring  about  an  ensemble-scene  and 
to  furnish  the  characteristic  hieratic  element. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  423 

Specifically,  in  the  economy  of  the  tale,  it  serves 
both  to  vindicate  the  Queen's  chastity,  and,  like 
the  oracle  in  "  uEthiopica,"  II.  xxxv,  to  promote 
the  restoration  of  an  exposed  child;  for,  it  says: 
"  the  King  shall  live  without  an  heire,  if  that  which 
is  lost  be  not  founde."  It  is  couched  in  plain 
straightforward  language;  it  is  free  from  para- 
dox; is  eminently  structural;  and,  again  like 
Heliodorus's  oracle,  it  fulfils  itself  by  devious 
ways — the  devious  ways  of  Fortune  under  the 
control  of  the  gods.  Not  so  the  oracle  in  "  Mena- 
phon."  That  is  merely  a  verbal  riddle,  and 
serves  only  to  keep  the  plot  entangled  and  re- 
tarded. Arcadia  being  afflicted  with  a  pestilence, 
King  Democles  sent  to  "  Delphos  "  to  get  Apollo's 
oracle,  which  (XI)  34  came  couched  in  para- 
doxical terms: 

"...  Dead  men  shall  warre,  and  unborne  babes 

shall  frowne, 

And  with  their  fawchens  hew  their  foemen  downe. 
When  Lambes  have  Lions  for  their  surest  guide, 
.  .  .  When  swelling  seas  have  neither  ebbe  nor  tide, 
.  .  .  Then  looke  Arcadians  for  a  happie  time." 

This  turns  out  to  mean  that  Maximius,  sup- 
posed to  be  dead,  shall  be  found  alive  and  fight- 
ing; that  Pleusidippus  his  son,  yet  unborn,  shall 
also  fight;  that  the  King  and  his  daughter  Se- 
phestia  shall  masquerade  as  shepherds,  and  thus 
provide  lions,  viz.,  royalty,  as  guides  for  lambs ; 
and  that  upon  the  coat  of  arms  of  Maximius  and 
Pleusidippus  shall  appear  a  swelling  sea, — which, 
being  painted,  has  neither  ebb  nor  tide!  Of 


424  TPE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

course,  the  attempt  was  to  imitate  the  paradoxical 
oracles  in  the  "^thiopica "  and  in  Sidney's 
"Arcadia,"  but  Greene  has  succeeded  in  produc- 
ing only  a  quibble. 

This  absurdity  Greene  would  fain  make  struc- 
tural, by  making  Samela  (Sephestia)  set  its  ful- 
filment as  the  condition  upon  which  she  will 
wed  Melicertus  (Maximius — already  her  hus- 
band, but  unrecognized).  She  (p.  114)  "vowed 
marriage  to  him  solemnly  in  presence  of  all  the 
shepheards,  but  not  to  be  solemnized  till  the 
Prophecie  was  fulfilled,  mentioned  in  the  begin- 
ning of  this  Historic."  Again  the  object  of 
imitation  is  in  the  ".^Lthiopica  " — this  time 
Chariclea's  promise  to  marry  Theagenes  only 
after  their  restoration  to  Ethiopia  in  fulfilment 
of  the  oracle.  But  the  condition  set  by  Chariclea 
is  reasonable,  for  to  her  the  fulfilment  of  the 
oracle  means,  as  she  is  perfectly  aware,  restora- 
tion to  her  parents  and  her  country;  while  the 
similar  condition  set  by  Samela  is  quite  without 
reason  or  motive.  The  oracle  does  not,  as  far 
as  anyone  has  up  to  that  point  been  informed, 
concern  her  at  all:  she  has  not  been  connected 
with  it,  nor  can  she  know,  as  Chariclea  knows, 
that  its  fulfilment  will  restore  her  to  her  father 
and  her  rank.  Whereas  in  "  Pandosto "  the 
oracle  brings  about  a  real  peripeteia,  in  "  Mena- 
phon  "  it  is  only  pseudo-structural.  Without  it, 
the  story  would  have  begun,  moved  on,  and 
ended,  exactly  as  it  now  does. 

The  King's  jealousy  is  the  genuine  "moving 
force "  in  "  Pandosto."  From  it  the  remainder 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  425 

of  the  story  grows:  the  retreat  of  the  King's 
friend,  the  persecution  of  the  Queen,  and  the 
exposure  of  her  daughter,  with  all  its  conse- 
quences. And  here  again  a  structural  element  is 
borrowed,  with  very  slight  change,  from  the 
"^Ethiopica."  It  is  to  forestall  the  King's  prob- 
able suspicion  about  the  parentage  of  Chariclea 
that  the  Queen  exposes  her  ("y£th.,"  II.  xxxi; 
IV.  viii).  In  "Pandosto"  the  King's  actual 
suspicion  of  Fawnia's  parentage  occasions  her 
exposure.  (IV)  252:  Pandosto  "found  out  this 
devise,  that  seeing  (as  he  thought)  it  came  by 
fortune,  so  he  would  commit  it  to  the  charge  of 
fortune " ;  and  Bellaria,  hearing  of  his  resolve, 
cries:  "Alas  sweete  in  fortunate  babe,  scarce 
borne,  before  envied  by  fortune,  would  the  day 
of  thy  birth  had  beene  the  terme  of  thy  life  .  .  . 
(ib.t  253)  and  shalt  thou,  sweete  Babe,  be  com- 
mitted to  Fortune,  when  thou  art  already  spited 
by  Fortune?  .  .  .  Let  me  put  this  chayne  about 
thy  little  necke,  that  if  fortune  save  thee,  it  may 
help  to  succour  thee."  The  child's  exposure  be- 
cause of  her  father's  jealousy,  the  commitment 
of  her  to  Fortune,  the  addition  of  tokens  which 
the  mother  hopes  may  be  of  use  to  identify  the 
child  if  found,  the  agonized  speech  by  the  mother 
when  her  child  is  exposed, — all  these,  even  to 
verbal  similarities,  are  parallel  in  Heliodorus  and 
in  Greene. 

The  exposure  in  "  Pandosto  "  has  its  counter- 
part in  "  Menaphon," — structural  to  be  sure,  but 
quite  unmotived — in  the  King's  exposure  of  his 
daughter,  with  her  husband,  her  infant  son,  and 


426  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

her  uncle,  in  an  open  boat.  This  act  is  the 
"  motive  force  " ;  yet  we  never  learn  the  King's 
reason  for  it.  Towards  the  end  of  "  Menaphon  " 
(VI),  142 — however,  we  do  find  a  borrowing 
from  Heliodorus  that  is  both  structural  and  mo- 
tived. King  Democles,  in  love  with  Samela, 
orders  that  she  and  her  favored  lover  Melicertus 
be  imprisoned  together  alone.  The  situation  is 
exactly  analogous  to  that  in  the  "^Ethiopica" 
(VIII.  x),  where  Queen  Arsace,  in  love  with 
Theagenes,  orders  that  he  and  his  beloved  Chari- 
clea  be  imprisoned  together  alone.  Greene  in  this 
case  has  improved  upon  his  original.  Heliodorus 
assigns  as  Arsace's  motive  the  desire  to  torture 
the  lovers  by  affording  to  each  the  sight  of  the 
other's  captivity : — a  motive  that  no  one  with  any 
knowledge  of  human  nature  could  possibly  enter- 
tain ;  for  of  course  the  joy  of  the  lovers  at  seeing 
each  other  far  exceeds  their  grief  at  seeing  each 
other  in  prison.  Greene  supplies  Democles  with 
a  much  more  plausible  motive.  Finding  it  im- 
possible to  gain  Samela's  favor,  the  King  re- 
solves that  she  shall  die,  and  this  under  a  con- 
viction of  unchastity.  His  confederate  the  jailer 
is  to  bring  the  charge,  to  which  the  lovers'  im- 
prisonment together  gives  color. 

The  "  moment  of  last  suspense "  is  the  same 
in  the  "^Ethiopica"  (X.  vii  ff.),  in  "Menaphon" 
(VI),  142-3,  and  in  "Pandosto"  (IV),  314-15: 
A  princess  once  exposed  is  restored  to  her  father 
the  King,  who,  not  recognizing  her  as  his  daugh- 
ter, orders  her  to  be  put  to  death.51  The 

01  Greene  in  both  "  Pandosto  "  and  "  Menaphon  "  attrib- 
utes to  the  King  a  motive  not  in  Greek  romance :  Not  rec- 


ELIZABETHAN  PROSE  FICTION 


427 


denouement  too  is  parallel,  even  to  verbal  simi- 
larities,52 in  the  "^thiopica"  and  in  "Mena- 
phon."  This  will  readily  appear  from  the  follow- 
ing comparison;  in  which  the  "moment  of  last 
suspense  "  is  prefixed,  for  the  sake  of  continuity : 


"MENAPHON"  (VI) 

142-3.  Sephestia, 
daughter  of  King  Demo- 
cles  of  Arcadia,  having 
been  exposed,  is  now  re- 
stored, with  her  husband 
Maximius,  to  her  father. 
She  knows  him,  but  he 
does  not  know  her,  and 
is  about  to  have  her  and 
her  husband  put  to  death. 
Her  son,  though  he  does 
not  know  Sephestia  to 
be  his  mother,  remon- 
strates with  the  King 
on  account  of  her  beau- 
ty, but  in  vain.  Further- 
more, Maximius  and  Se- 
phestia decline  to  save 
themselves  by  proving 
their  identity  and  their 
marriage.  The  discovery 
is  effected,  at  last,  by 
the  appearance  of  "  an 
olde  woman  attired  like 
a  Prophetesse,"  who  dis- 


X 

vii.  Chariclea,  daughter 
of  King  Hydaspes  of 
Ethiopia,  having  been 
exposed,  is  now  restored, 
with  her  husband  Thea- 
genes,  to  her  father.  She 
knows  him,  but  he  does 
not  know  her,  and  is 
about  to  have  her  and 
her  husband  put  to  death. 
Her  mother,  though  she 
does  not  know  Chariclea 
to  be  her  daughter,  re- 
monstrates with  the  King 
on  account  of  her  beau- 
ty, but  in  vain.  Further- 
more, Theagenes  and 
Chariclea  decline  to  save 
themselves  by  proving 
their  identity  and  their 
marriage.  The  discovery 
is  effected,  at  last,  by  the 
appearance  of  two  old 
priests — one  a  priest  of 
the  prophetic  god, — who 


ognizing  his  daughter,  the  King  falls  in  love  with  her,  but 
finding  her  resolved  not  to  yield,  would  punish  her  with 
death. 

02  For   which    Greene's    source   was,    apparently,    Under- 
downe's  translation. 


428  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

closes    the    truth.     The  between    them    disclose 

happy  ending  is  the  ful-  the    truth.      The    happy 

filment    of     a    Delphic  ending  is  the  fulfilment 

oracle.  of  a  Delphic  oracle. 

143.     Pleusidippus  U  263.  "  Persina  .  .  . 

" turned  to  the  King,  and  said:   O   husband,   what 

sayd:    Is    it    not    pitie,  a   maide   have   you   ap- 

Democles,    such    diuine  pointed  to  be  sacrificed? 

beauty  should  be  wrapt  I    knowe    not    whether 

in  cinders?  ...  all  the  ever   I  saw  so  faire  a 

assistants  grieved  to  see  creature    .    .    .    What  a 

so  faire  a  creature  sub-  beautifull     visage    hath 

ject  to  the  violent  rage  shee?  with  how  couragi- 

of  fortune"  ous  a  heart  beareth  shee 

this  fortune?" 

In  "  Menaphon  "  as  in  the  "  yEthiopica,"  both 
the  concealment  of  identity  and  its  hieratic  dis- 
closure are  the  more  striking  in  that  they  are 
quite  without  motive.  Maximius  and  Sephestia 
have  not  the  slightest  reason  for  not  revealing 
who  they  are ;  and  as  for  the  old  prophetess,  she 
is  simply  dragged  in :  she  has  never  been  heard 
of  before,  and  vanishes  as  soon  as  she  has  said 
her  say.  In  both  respects,  at  the  expense  of 
probability  in  his  motivation  and  of  structural 
coherence  in  his  plot,  Greene  has  made  a  mani- 
fest effort  to  parallel  quite  closely  the  ending  of 
the  "  yEthiopica." 

Thus  it  is  that  the  influence  of  Heliodorus  upon 
Greene  goes  deep.  Unlike  the  influence  of 
Achilles  Tatius,  it  does  not  cease  when  it  has 
given  Greene  incident  and  ornament,  phrase  and 
tag;  but  it  gives  him  the  basis  and  structural 
members  of  his  romance — the  actuating  force,  the 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  429 

transitional  scenes,  the  peripeteia,  the  moment  of 
last  suspense,  the  catastrophe. 

Yet  Greene,  it  should  be  remembered,  is  in- 
capable of  fully  utilizing  this  legacy  of  form. 
The  outcome  of  his  labors  is  very  different  from 
the  well-nigh  faultless  joinery  exhibited  in  the 
"^thiopica."  He  often  leaves  his  personages 
uncharacterized  or  inconsistently  characterized, 
their  actions  unmotived  or  foolishly  motived,  his 
plot  wanting  in  essential  links.  He  defeats  ex- 
pectation, not  deliberately,  but  from  forgetfulness 
or  sheer  incompetence.  Near  the  beginning  of 
"Mamillia"  (II),  15,  we  hear  of  Florion,  who, 
serving  with  Mamillia  at  the  court  of  the  Duke 
of  Venice,  has  formed  with  her  a  friendship 
founded  upon  virtue.  (16)  He  has  had  experi- 
ence of  women's  wiles,  and  has  gained  wisdom. 
(18)  He  retires  from  court  to  the  country  at 
Sienna,  and  persuades  Mamillia  likewise  to  retire, 
to  her  father's  house  in  Padua.  (37-9)  She  re- 
ceives a  letter  from  him,  warning  her  to  beware 
of  love.  All  this  leads  us  to  expect  either  that  he 
will  be  the  hero  of  the  story,  a  virtuous  cynical 
contemplative  malcontent  like  Euphues  (whom  so 
far  he  has  emulated),  and  a  possible  rival  to  the 
Machiavellian  Pharicles,  or  that,  if  he  is  not  to 
be  a  suitor  to  Mamillia,  at  least  he  is  to  be  kept 
for  future  use,  that  he  may  prove  a  true  friend 
when  Pharicles  has  deserted  her.  But,  after  the 
comment  (42)  on  his  letter,  nothing  more  is  heard 
of  him.  He  has  been  made  only  to  be  thrown 
away.  He  is  not  like  the  messenger  whom  He- 
liodorus  created,  and  dropped  when  he  had  deliv- 


43°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

ered  his  message  ("JEth.,"  VI.  iii,  iv)  or  even  like 
Greene's  own  awkward  "  prophetesse  "  in  "  Mena- 
phon"  (ante,  pp.  427-8) ;  for  both  of  these  had 
at  least  a  place  in  the  economy  of  the  tale,  and 
neither  of  them  was  at  all  characterized;  while 
Florion  is  characterized  at  least  in  outline,  and  at 
the  same  time  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  story. 
He  is  a  false  start,  not  erased  from  a  finished 
work.  Later  in  "Mamillia"  (II.  135),  Phar- 
icles  goes  into  voluntary  exile  in  Sicily — why,  no 
man  knows.  For  it  does  not  appear  that  Ma- 
millia's  family  are  seeking  to  punish  him  for  his 
abandonment  of  her,  or  that  he  is  retiring  in 
order  to  overcome  his  new  love  for  Publia — each 
a  possible  motive.  There  he  is — and  that  is  all. 
So  it  is  in  numerous  instances  throughout 
Greene's  works.53  But  nothing  exhibits  more 
strikingly  Greene's  essential  weaknesses  in  char- 
acterization and  structure  than  "  Menaphon  "  it- 
self. Framed,  as  has  been  seen,  upon  the  model 
of  the  "yEthiopica,"  and  with  the  additional  ad- 
vantage of  an  English  pattern  in  Sidney's 
"Arcadia,"  it  is  nevertheless  the  loosest  thing 
Greene  ever  wrote.  At  the  beginning  (VI.  33) 
Democles  is  said  to  be  "  a  man  as  iust  in  his  cen- 
sures as  royall  in  his  possessions,  as  carefull  for 
the  weale  of  his  countrey,  as  the  continuance  of 
his  diadem."  But  later  we  learn  (ib.,  113)  that, 
utterly  without  motive,  he  "  committed  his  daugh- 
ter with  her  tender  babe,  her  husbande  Maximus, 
and  Lamedon,  his  unckle,  without  oare  or 
mariner  to  the  furie  of  the  merciles  waves  " ;  the 

B  E.  g.,  "  Garde  of  Fancie  "  (IV),  134-5,  as  against  140- 
141 ;  "  Plaflejpmac.hia **  (V),  passim. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  431 

result  being  that  "his  Queen  with  Sephestiaes 
losse  (who  she  deemed  to  be  dead)  tooke  such 
thought,  that  within  short  time  after  she  died."8* 
Moreover  (i&.)  "he  spent  his  time  in  all  kinde 
of  pleasures  that  either  art  or  expence  might 
affoord,  so  that  for  his  dissolute  life  he  seemed 
another  Heliogabalus"  And  the  remainder  of 
his  conduct  throughout  the  second  half  of  the 
tale  wholly  contradicts  the  initial  assertion  about 
him.  Menaphon  himself,  who  as  a  sort  of  a 
pastoral  hero  is  meant  to  have  our  sympathy, 
turns  Samela  out  of  his  house  with  insults  (101, 
2)  because  she  rejects  his  love.  Pleusidippus's 
shield,  we  learn  (112)  bears  the  device  of  Venus 
on  the  waves  because  he  has  been  carried  off 
by  pirates.  So  this  was  not  a  family  coat  of 
arms.  But  when  he  fights  (132-5)  with  his 
father,  the  latter  bears  the  same  device,  and  each 
is  angry  at  the  other's  presumption.  Samela, 
recognizing  her  father  but  unrecognized  by  him, 
allows  him  to  woo  her,  and  says  nothing  about 
their  relationship.  Pleusidippus  her  son,  when 
he  was  stolen  from  her  by  pirates,  was  a  well- 
grown  boy,  already  a  leader  among  his  comrades, 
and  certainly  old  enough  to  know  his  mother  by 
sight  and  as  a  shepherdess  named  Samela.  Yet 
back  he  comes  to  woo  her,  in  ignorance,  Greene 
would  have  us  believe,  of  the  fact  that  she  is  his 
mother.  What  Greene  must  bring  about,  in  the 
face  of  nature,  is  this  preposterous  situation:  a 
woman,  betrothed  to  her  husband,  and  courted 

MCf.  "Pandosto"  (IV),  261:  Bellaria's  death  follows 
closely  upon  the  exposure  of  one  of  her  children  and  the 
death  of  another. 


432  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

by  her  father  and  her  son!85  Apparently  he 
seeks  to  outdo  the  famous  situation  in  Sidney's 
"Arcadia":  a  man  betrothed  to  a  maiden  and 
courted  by  her  father  and  her  mother.  In  like 
manner  the  absurd  condition  imposed  by 
Sephestia — that  the  oracle  must  be  fulfilled  be- 
fore she  will  marry  Maximius  (ante,  p.  424)  ;the 
absurd  silence  of  the  pair  as  to  their  identity 
(ante,  p.  427) ;  and  the  absurd  old  woman  who 
discloses  it  (ante,  p.  428) ;  are  all  due  to  Greene's 
desire  to  emulate  the  "JEthiopica."  In  "  Mena- 
phon"  at  least,  the  imitation  of  Greek  Romance 
is  a  hindrance  rather  than  a  help.  It  is  other- 
wise in  "  Pandosto,"  the  best  of  Greene's  works, 
and  the  one  which,  as  has  been  said,  most  fully 
exhibits  the  influence  of  Greek  Romance.  The 
final  discussion  both  of  "  Pandosto "  and  of 
"  Menaphon  "  is  reserved  until  after  a  considera- 
tion of  Greene's  indebtedness  to  Longus. 

Common  to  Greene  and  Longus,  if  not  derived 
from  Longus  by  Greene,  is  the  employment  of 
the  pastoral  as  "an  element  in  the  harmonious 
solution  of  a  longer  story,"56  a  story  of  city  or 
court.  The  long  tradition  of  which  this  is  a 
phase  probably  includes,  broadly  speaking,  all 
those  escapes  from  the  life  active  to  the  life  con- 
templative which  afford  relief  to  the  course  of 
epic  narration:  escapes  to  the  Lower  World,  or 
to  Fortunate  Islands,  or — as  in  Tasso's  epic — to 
the  country  as  well.  Specifically,  however,  the 

85  Cf.    Wolff,    "  Greene    and    the    Italian    Renaissance," 

P-  351- 

MC.  H.  Herford,  ed.  "The  Eversley  Shakespeare":  In- 
troduction to  "  The  Winter's  Tale,"  Vol.  IV,  p.  268. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  433 

pastoral  as  a  Renaissance  genre  is  not  so  used,  at 
least  in  its  chief  Italian  examples:  in  Sannazaro 
there  is  only  a  suggestion — and  that  cryptic — of 
some  grief  which  the  author  has  suffered  in 
Naples,  and  for  which  he  seeks  solace  among  the 
shepherds ;  the  "  Aminta "  is  purely  a  "  favola 
boschereccia " ;  and  the  "  Pastor  Fido,"  despite 
its  elaborate  apparatus  of  oracles,  messengers, 
restorations,  and  recognitions  (partly  from  Greek 
tragedy,  partly  from  Greek  romance)  is  also 
without  the  slightest  urban  enveloping  action. 
Possibly,  then,  this  employment  of  the  pastoral  is 
distinctive  of  Elizabethan  fiction;  at  all  events 
it  is  very  general  there.  It  occurs  in  Sidney's 
"Arcadia";  in  Wiliam  Warner's57  story  (in 
verse)  of  Argentile  and  Curan  ("Albions  Eng- 
land," IV.  20)  ;  in  Lodge's  "  Rosalynde "  (and 
in  "As  You  Like  It");  in  Greene's  "Tullies 
Love,"  "Menaphon"  and  "Pandosto"  (and  in 
"The  Winter's  Tale"). 

The  gentle  ridicule  of  rustic  speech,  manners 
and  attire  has  been  remarked  (ante,  p.  122)  as  a 
natural  result  of  the  urban  point  of  view.  This 
ridicule  is  also  common  to  Longus  and  Greene,  if 
not  derived  by  Greene  from  Day's  paraphrase  of 
"Daphnis  and  Chloe."  "Pandosto,"  containing 
Greene's  first  pastoral,  appeared  in  1588,  a  year 
later  than  Day's  paraphrase;  and  it  makes  fun 
of  Porrus's  holiday  array  (IV.  296)  very  much 
as  Day  makes  fun  of  Dorcon's  efforts  to  render 
himself  clean  and  acceptable  in  Chloe's  sight 

BT  Warner  was  acquainted  with  Heliodorus,  whom  he  imi- 
tated  in   "  Pan   his    Syrinx,"   a   collection   of   prose   tales 
based  on  the  "^Ethiopica."     Oeftering,  96. 
29 


434  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

(Day  22-4;  not  in  the  original  or  in  Amyot,  but 
part  of  Day's  interpolation  to  fill  the  lacuna. 
See  post,  Ap.  A,  p.  465-6.)  Greene's  other  works 
that  contain  a  pastoral  element  exhibit  in  every 
case  this  same  ridicule.  "  Menaphon "  (VI), 
135-139,  describes  comically  the  rustic  courtship 
of  Doron  and  Carmela,  (ib.)  119  quotes  Doron's 
description  of  Samela  in  homely  language  full 
of  bombast  and  bathos,  and  (t&.)  56-7  makes 
fun  of  Menaphon's  own  russet  jacket  and  round 
slop,  and  of  his  honest  russet  and  kersey  efforts 
to  entertain  the  fine  folk  his  guests.  In  "  Fran- 
cescos  Fortunes"  (VIII),  184 ff,  the  pastoral  tale 
told  by  the  host  describes  a  comical  ugly  shep- 
herd Mullidor,  and  his  old  mother  Callena,  who 
is  proud  of  her  lumpish  son.  In  "  Mourning 
Garment"  (IX),  141-4,  Philador  finds  in 
Thessaly  a  shepherd  and  his  wife,  whose  homely 
costume — russet  cloak,  green  coat,  scarlet  cas- 
sock, and  the  rest, — is  detailed  with  a  smile.  In 
"Farewell  to  Folly"  (IX),  265,  Maesia,  daugh- 
ter of  the  exiled  Countie  Selydes,  retires  to  the 
country  to  seek  work,  and  encounters  a  wealthy 
farmer's  son  who  takes  her  into  his  parents'  ser- 
vice. His  holiday  finery  is  minutely  described: 
"  a  strawne  hat  steeple-wise  .  .  .  tawnye  worsted 
iacket  ...  a  pair  of  hose  of  red  kersie,  close 
trust  with  a  point  afore  ...  his  pompes  were  a 
little  too  heauie,  being  trimmed  start-vps  made 
of  a  paire  of  boote  legges."  The  everyday 
clothes  and  the  wedding  outfit  of  Tomkins  the 
Wheelwright  and  Kate  the  Milkmaid,  in"  Vision" 
(XII),  224-5,  are  similarly  ridiculed. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  435 

Greene  agrees  with  Longus  again  in  (theo- 
retically at  least)  excluding  from  his  pastoral 
the  activity  of  Fortune.  Life  among  the  shep- 
herds is  secure ;  for  "  Fortune  is  blinde,  and  must 
either  misse  of  her  aime,  or  shoote  at  a  great 
inarke:  her  boltes  flie  not  so  lowe  as  beggerie." 
("Farewell,"  IX.  282.)  That  they  who  are 
down  need  fear  no  fall,  is  one  of  Greene's 
favorite  sentiments58  (cf.  ante,  p.  381);  in 
general,  "  the  poore  estate  scornes  fortunes  angrie 
frowne"  ("Farewell,"  IX.  279)  and  to  retire  to 
the  country  is  to  safeguard  oneself  against  her 
vicissitudes.  " Royal  Exchange "  (VII),  242-3: 
"  Scipio  the  Affrican  after  all  his  glorious  vic- 
tories sequestrating  himself e  in  a  graunge  place, 
beeing  demanded  why  he  woulde  not  live  any 
longer  in  the  Commonwealth,  aunswered,  for  that 
[he  was]  flying  from  the  iniuries  of  Fortune." 
But  in  practice  Greene  admits  Fortune  as  a  vera 
causa  into  his  pastorals.  Samela,  Maximius, 
and  Pleusidippus,  in  "  Menaphon,"  and  Fawnia, 
in  "  Pandosto,"  are  still  the  playthings  of  For- 
tune after  they  have  gone  to  live  among  the 
shepherds.  In  fact,  Greene  speaks  of  "  Mena- 
phon "  as  a  "  pastorall  historic,  conteyning  the 
manifolde  iniuries  of  fortune  "  (Epistle  Dedica- 
tory, VI.  5-6) ;  and  again,  at  the  end  of  the 
tale  (145-6),  as  "this  pastorall  accident" — 
which  is  precisely  what  it  is. 

The  substitution  by  Longus  of  Love  in  For- 

K"  Menaphon"  (VI),  38-9,  48-9;  "  Perimedes  "  (VII), 
42,  59  ;  "  Farewell  "  (IX),  263,  279,  282  ;  "  Penelopes  Web  " 
(V),  178,  183,  185;  "Pandosto"  (IV),  249,  282;  "Philo- 
mela" (XI),  192. 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


tune's  place  is  paralleled,  in  Greene,  by  so  close 
an  association  of  Love  and  Fortune  that  Greene 
often  leaves  in  doubt  which  of  them  is  the  vera 
causa.  In  "Censure"  (VI),  180,  Maedyna, 
struggling  against  her  lawless  passion  for  Vorty- 
mis,  hopes  "  that  time  would  weare  out  that 
which  fond  Love  and  Fortune  had  wrought."  In 
"Menaphon"  (VI)  Love  and  Fortune  are  com- 
pared, and  railed  at  together,59  and  (»&.,  103) 
Menaphon  complains:  "Love  and  Fortune 
proves  my  equall  foes."  In  "Planetomachia  " 
(V),  113,  Psammetichus  hearing  that  the  woman 
he  loves  is  Rhodope  the  courtesan,  "beganne  in 
most  cruel  termes  to  exclaime  against  Love  and 
Fortune."60  Together,  Love  and  Fortune  favor 
the  bold.61  Love  itself  is  the  effect  of  Fate  or 

58  "  The  thoughtes  of  a  lover  never  continue  scarce  a 
minute  in  one  passion,  but  as  Fortunes  globe,  so  is  fancies 
seate  variable  and  inconstant." 

Cf.  Propertius,  II.  viii  : 

Omnia  vertuntur,  certe  vertuntur  amores  : 
Vinceris,  aut  vincis,  haec  in  amore  rota  est. 

On  an  antique  engraved  gem,  Eros  is  represented  on 
Fortune's  wheel  (Furtwangler,  "  Berlin  "  6767  ;  Reinach, 
plate  75,  no.  26). 

60  Other  passages  in  which  Love  and  Fortune  cooperate, 
with  functions  undifferentiated  :  "  Pandosto,"  IV.  281; 
"  Perimedes,"  VII.  47  ;  "  Never  too  Late,"  VIII.  43,  65  ; 
"  Francescos  Fortunes,"  VIII.  134;  "  Alcida,"  IX.  67,  93; 
"Mourning  Garment,"  IX.  158;  "Philomela,"  XI.  174; 
"  Orpharion,"  XII.  39.  In  still  other  passages,  Love  is 
opposed  by  Fortune,  the  Fates,  etc.,  and  thus  becomes  a 
phase  of  Virtu  (cf.  ante,  p.  386,  n.  30).  In  "  Censure,"  VI, 
1  60,  Achilles  declares:  "  Exteriour  actions  are  tyed  to  the 
Wynges  of  Fortune,  but  thoughts  as  they  are  passionate, 
so  they  are  within  the  compasse  of  Fancy."  Fortune  is 
against  Love  in  "  Carde  of  Fancie,"  IV.  55,  148,  154-5,  169. 
183,  184,  186;  "Censure,"  VI.  186-7;  "Pandosto,"  IV. 
290;  "Tullies  Love,"  VII.  188-9. 

«  "  Carde  of  Fancie  "  (IV),  80  ;  "  Alcida  "  (IX),  33-4,  35. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  437 

Fortune;  it  is  destined,  and  hence  irresistible.68 
Love  also  shares  Fortune's  function  of  bringing 
about  those  bizarre  situations  which  lead  to  anti- 
thesis and  oxymoron.  In  "Tullies  Love" 
(VII),  140,  Flavia  exclaims:  "With  what  little 
proportion  doth  iniurious  love  bestowe  his 
favors?  With  how  small  regarde  doth  blinde 
fortune  powre  out  hir  treasures?  Making  in  all 
their  actions  contrarieties,63  that  so  they  may 
triumph."  Here,  of  course,  Greene's  practice 
coincides  with  the  Petrarchistic  tradition  of  the 
Renaissance,  which  expresses  love  conventionally 
by  means  of  "contrarieties";64  but  it  would  be 

""Philomela"  (XI),  127;  "  Alcida "  (IX),  37;  "  Mo- 
rando  "  (III),  99-108;  "  Arbasto  "  (III),  213;  "  Carde  of 
Fancie  "  (IV),  92,  121,  169.  For  the  same  reason,  Love  is 
paramount  to  law,  to  friendship,  to  filial  duty, — to  every 
other  consideration  whatever.  So  "  Carde  of  Fancie  "  (IV), 
69-70,  79,  190-191  ;  "  Pandosto  "  (IV),  237-8,  277  ;  "  Plane- 
tomachia  "  (V),  62;  "Censure"  (VI),  178;  "  Perimedes " 
(VII),  73;  "Alcida"  (IX),  32; — (the  last  five  passages 
repeating  each  other  almost  verbatim) — ;  "Philomela" 
(XI),  140;  "Orpharion"  (XII),  30-31. 

63 "  Contrarieties  "  is  the  regular  term  for  the  antitheses 
growing  out  of  a  difficult  situation.  Pettie,  "  Pallace  of 
Pleasure,"  fol.  $7v.  (quoted  by  Bond)  :  "...  departed 
into  her  chamber  .  .  .  where  she  entred  with  herselfe  into 
these  contrarities  "  [sic],  Lyly,  "  Euphues,"  I.  205:  Lu- 
cilla,  "  all  the  company  being  departed  to  their  lodgings, 
entred  into  these  termes  and  contrarieties."  In  each  case 
there  follows  the  usual  antithetical  soliloquy. 

** "  Arbasto,"  III.  203  :  Love  is  "  a  paine  shadowed  with 
pleasure,  and  a  ioy  stuffed  with  miserie."  (Repeated  ver- 
batim in  "Alcida,"  IX.  40.)  "Debate,"  IV.  221:  ".  .  . 
how  many  sundrie  passions  doe  perplexe  the  poore  pas- 
sionate Louers  .  .  . :  as  to  have  ones  heart  separated  from 
himselfe,  to  bee  now  in  peace  and  then  in  war,  .  .  .  seek- 
ing that  carefullie  which  hee  seemeth  to  flie,  and  yet 
doubtfullie  dreading  not  to  finde  it  ...  to  burne  in  colde 


THE   GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


hazardous  to  say  that  Greene  was  not  affected  by 
the  antithetical  treatment  of  love  in  "  Daphnis 
and  Chloe."65 

Greene's  direct  borrowings  from  Longus  are 
few.  In  "  Menaphon,"  VI.  91  the  abduction  of 
Pleusidippus  parallels  in  some  detail  the  abduc- 
tion of  Daphnis  ("D  and  C,"  I.  xxviii;  Day, 
41-2).  Both  abductions  are  accomplished  by 
pirates  who  have  stolen  cattle,  but  who  at  sight 
of  the  boy  desire  him  more  than  their  other 
booty.  The  passages  are  here  transcribed. 

and  freeze  in  heate,  to  bee  crossed  altogether  with  con- 
traries." "  Alcida,"  IX.  31  :"  Louers  .  .  .  count  not  them- 
selves happy,  but  in  their  supposed  vnhappinesse  :  beeing  at 
most  ease  in  disquiet  ;  at  greatest  rest,  when  they  are  most 
troubled  ;  seeking  contentation  in  care,  delight  in  misery, 
and  hunting  greedily  after  that  which  alwaies  breedeth 
endlesse  harme." 

68  Some  miscellaneous  phases  of  love-doctrine  common  to 
Greene  and  to  Greek  Romance  may  be  noted  here.  Love 
enters  the  heart  through  the  eye  :  "  Menaphon,"  VI.  63,  85  ; 
"  Mourning  Garment,"  IX.  168-9.  Lovers'  souls  meet  in  a 
kiss:  "  Philomela,"  XI.  124.  Love  feeds  the  eye  and  closes 
the  stomath  :  "  Menaphon,"  VI.  54,  57  ;  "  Tullies  Love," 
VII.  116;  "Alcida,"  IX.  79;  "Mourning  Garment,"  IX. 
166-7;  "  Orpharion,"  XII.  70-72.  Love  gives  the  lover 
virtue  and  courage  :  "  Morando,"  III.  90  ff  ;  in  fact  it 
metamorphoses  his  character  :  "  Carde  of  Fancie,"  IV.  48-9  ; 
"Tullies  Love,"  VII.  185-9  (cf.  ante,  p.  374).  Throughout 
his  earlier  works  Greene  continually  alludes  to  Greek  erotic 
legends  ;  e.  g.,  "  Morando,"  III.  67  Danae  ;  Cephalus  and 
Procris  ;  70  Eriphile  ;  73  Phillis  and  Demophon  ;  Paris  and 
Oenone  ;  Ulisses  and  Circes  ;  Campaspe,  Apelles,  and  Alex- 
ander ;  82  Polipheme  and  Galatea  ;  83  Ariadne  ;  Medea  ; 
105  Echo  and  Narcissus;  Salmacis  ;  Biblis;  Hylonome;  115 
Achillis  and  Polixena. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION 


439 


DAPHNISAND 

CHLOE,"  I. 

xxviii 


DAY,  41-2 


Certaine    ro- 


•  rjXao-dv  rtras 
I  flows  -Aaur 


Aetywv  aXvovra 
Trapa  rrjv  OdXacr- 
<rav.  'iSovresSe 


u 

TOV  TT/S  e  ay- 
dpTrayrj<;, 
ju^Sev  es 

ras  ayas,  ^8' 

v      vxv 

es    TOVS    oAAovs 
v 

oypovs 


yovavrov. 


uers 

robbed  and  spoil- 

£d  the  seelie  Dor- 
con  of  all  his 

beastes  and  cat- 
tell  .  .  .  And 
coursing  as  they 
were  up  and  down 

in  the  Island, 
Daphnis  by  iu 

jiap  waiking  on 
the  sea-banke, 
was  by  them  sur- 

Prised»   •   •   •   the 

rouers  seeing  this 

,,    ?  . 
yong  youth,  faire, 

seemiy)        and 

strong,  and  think- 
ing  him  of  better 
regard  than  any 
part  else  of  their 
prize,  they  made 
no  further  pur- 
sute  after  his 
goates  .  .  ." 


"MENAPHON," 
VI.  91 

"  Pleusidippus 

on    a    time 
walking    on    the 

shore,  .  .  .  there 
arrived  On  the 

strond  a  Thes- 
salian  Pirate 
named  Eurilo- 
chus,  who  after 

he  had  forraged 
in  the  Arcadian 

confines,  driuing 
before  him  a 
large  bootie  of 
beasts  to  his 

ships,  espied  this 

'.       .     r 
pretie   infant; 

when  gazing  on 
his  face,  ...  his 
thought  never 
thirsted  so  much 
after  any  pray, 
as  this  pretie 
Pleusidippus  pos- 
session." 


As  this  is  the  last  of  the  numerous  borrowings 
from  Greek  Romance  that  enter  into  the  com- 
position of  "  Menaphon,"  it  is  now  possible  to 
assign  to  each  of  these  borrowings  its  place  in  the 
whole,  as  well  as  to  estimate  the  relative  im- 


44°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

portance  of  the  Greek  Romances,  of  Sidney's 
"Arcadia,"  and  of  Warner's  story  of  Argentile 
and  Curan,  as  sources  of  Greene's  romance. 
The  detailed  discussion  thus  required  will  be  ren- 
dered more  intelligible  by  a  brief  summary  of 
"  Menaphon  " : 

A  plague  having  visited  Arcadia,  King  Democles 
receives  from  "  Delphos "  a  riddling  oracle,  which 
bids  the  Arcadians  look  for  a  happy  time  when 
certain  apparently  impossible  conditions  shall  have 
been  fulfilled.  Later — (how  much  later  does  not 
appear) — the  King  causes  his  daughter  Sephestia, 
her  husband  Maximius,  her  infant  son  Pleusidippus, 
and  her  uncle  Lamedon  to  be  set  adrift  in  a  boat 
without  mariner,  oar  or  sail.  (The  reason  for  this 
inhumanity  does  not  appear.)  The  Queen,  Sephestia's 
mother,  dies  of  grief.  The  castaways,  except  Maxi- 
mius, whom  Sephestia  believes  to  be  lost,  are  wrecked 
upon  the  coast  of  Arcadia  in  sight  of  Menaphon, 
the  King's  chief  shepherd,  who  receives  them  into 
his  cottage  and  falls  in  love  with  Sephestia.  She 
tells  him  that  her  name  is  Samela,  and  that  she 
comes  from  Cyprus ;  and  keeps  him  in  play  with 
doubtful  and  dilatory  answers  to  his  suit.  At  a 
gathering  of  the  shepherds,  Sephestia  sees  the  sup- 
posed shepherd  Melicertus — really  her  husband  Max- 
imius disguised,  who  has  reached  the  shore  in 
safety.  He  sees  her  too,  and  is  struck  with  her 
resemblance  to  his  lost  wife;  she  with  his  resem- 
blance to  her  lost  husband !  They  fall  in  love  afresh. 
Stung  by  jealousy,  Menaphon  insults  Sephestia,  who 
with  her  uncle  and  son  leaves  his  house  and  sets  up 
a  cottage  of  her  own.  Melicertus  courts  her  and 
gives  her  a  "  Description  of  his  Mistres,"  as  if  he 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  441 

has  had  another.  She  promises  to  be  his  wife  when 
the  oracle  is  fulfilled!  Pleusidippus,  now  a  well- 
grown  boy,  and  a  leader  among  his  playfellows,  is 
seized  by  pirates  on  the  shore  and  sent  by  them  to 
the  King  of  Thrace  as  a  gift.  His  beauty  wins  him 
gentle  treatment;  he  is  knighted;  and  the  King 
means  that  his  own  daughter  Olympia  shall  be 
Pleusidippus's  wife.  The  young  people  are  willing, 
but  there  has  reached  Thrace  the  report  of  the 
beauty  of  Samela,  the  Arcadian  shepherdess,  and 
Pleusidippus  cannot  rest  till  he  has  beheld  her.  He 
goes  to  Arcadia  and  falls  in  love  with  her !  Demo- 
cles  too  has  heard  of  her,  and  is  now  in  disguise 
among  the  shepherds  in  order  to  woo  her.  She 
repulses  both  her  father  and  her  son,  recognizing 
the  former  but  saying  nothing !  Democles  persuades 
Pleusidippus  to  carry  her  off  to  a  castle  of  the 
King's  near  by,  and  there  tries  by  threats  to  compel 
her  to  yield.  A  party  of  shepherds  led  by  Meli- 
certus  comes  to  her  rescue ;  and  Melicertus  and 
Pleusidippus  are  about  to  engage  in  single  combat, 
when  Democles,  who  sees  that,  whoever  wins,  he 
must  lose,  induces  them  to  postpone  their  fight  three 
days.  In  the  interval  he  sends  for  troops,  whom  he 
places  in  ambush  near  the  lists.  Melicertus  and 
Pleusidippus  having  fought  awhile  are  both  taken 
prisoners  by  these  troops,  who  overawe  the  shep- 
herds. Pleusidippus,  as  a  favorite  of  the  powerful 
King  of  Thrace,  is  soon  released,  but  Melicertus 
and  Samela  are  imprisoned  together,  for  Democles 
has  resolved  to  put  them  both  to  death.  They  are 
led  forth  to  execution;  but  just  before  the  fatal 
stroke  "there  stept  out  on  olde  woman  attired  like 
a  Prophetesse,  who  cryed  out  Villaine  holde  thy 
hand,"  told  who  Melicertus,  Pleusidippus,  and  Sa- 
mela really  were,  and  declared  that  the  oracle  was 
fulfilled.  "At  this,  the  people  gaue  a  great  shout, 


442  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

and  the  olde  woman  vanisht."  The  King  of  Thrace 
is  sent  for,  with  his  daughter,  whom  Pleusidippus 
marries.  Menaphon,  unable  to  get  Samela,  marries 
his  old  love  Pesana;  and  the  comic  pastoral  lovers, 
Doron  and  Carmela,  are  married  too. 

It  has  been  thought66  that  "  Menaphon  "  is  de- 
rived from  William  Warner's  tale  of  Argentile 
and  Curan,  in  "Albions  England"  (1586),  Bk. 
IV,  ch.  20.  The  extent  of  the  indebtedness  will 
be  clear  from  the  following  summary: 

Argentile,  daughter  of  King  Adelbright,  is  left 
by  his  death  to  the  guardianship  of  his  brother, 
King  Edel,  who  has  shared  with  him  the  Kingdom 
of  Diria.  False  to  his  trust,  and  wishing  to  usurp 
Argentile's  share,  Edel  will  not  give  her  in  mar- 
riage to  any  man  of  her  own  rank.  But  Curan, 
"  sonne  unto  a  prince  in  Danske,"  has  fallen  in  love 
with  her,  and,  in  order  to  gain  access  to  her,  be- 
comes a  kitchen  drudge  in  Edel's  court.  He  reveals 
to  her  his  love  and  his  parentage,  but  she  rejects 
him.  Edel  favors  this  supposedly  base  match,  and 
Argentile,  in  order  to  escape  it,  flees  from  court. 
Curan  becomes  a  shepherd.  After  two  years  he  falls 
in  love  with  a  neighboring  neatherd's  maid,  and  in 
telling  her  his  love,  confesses  that  he  formerly  loved 
another,  whom  he  describes.  The  neatherd's  maid 
is  Argentile,  who  now  returns  Curan's  love.  They 
are  married;  and  Curan  reconquers  her  kingdom. 

"*  Joseph  Quincy  Adams,  "  Greene's  '  Menaphon '  and 
'The  Thracian  Wonder,'"  in  Modern  Philology,  III.  317- 
18 ;  cited  with  approval  by  J.  W.  H.  Atkins,  in  "  The  Cam- 
bridge History  of  English  Literature,"  III.  ch.  xvi,  p.  406. 
(Mr.  Adams's  "  Thomas  Forde's  '  Love's  Labyrinth  '  "  de- 
rives "  Argentile  and  Curan  "  from  "  Havelok  the  Dane.") 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION 


443 


Common  to  Warner's  story  and  to  Greene's  are 
the  meeting  of  royal  persons  in  the  country  as 
shepherd  and  shepherdess,  their  failure  to  recog- 
nize one  another,  their  falling  in  love,  the  lover's 
acknowledgment  that  he  has  had  another  mis- 
tress, his  giving  his  new  mistress  a  description  of 
her,  and  the  actual  identity  of  the  new  mistress 
with  the  old. 

More  numerous  and  rather  more  important  are 
Greene's  imitations  of  Sidney : 


'  Arcadia." 


"  Menaphon." 


(Name)  Pyrocles 

(Name)  Pamela,  a  princess  in 
rustic  retirement. 

(Name)  Dorus.  a  prince  dis- 
guised as  a  shepherd 

Setting :  Arcadia 

Paradoxical  Oracle  to  King  of 
Arcadia. 


(Name)  Democles. 

( Name )  Samela,  a  princess  in 

rustic  retirement. 
I  Name )  Doron,  a  shepherd. 

Setting  :  Arcadia. 
Paradoxical  Oracle  to  King  of 
Arcadia. 


(Also  in  "yEthiopica"). 


A  prince  of  Thessaly. 
Wife  of  King  of  Arcadia  was 
born  in  Cyprus. 

Hero  is  cast  ashore  in  sight  of 
shepherds,  who  rescue  him. 

Zelmane,  betrothed  to  Phil- 
oclea,  is  wooed  by  both  Ba- 
silius  and  Gynecia,  his  be- 
trothed" s  father  and  mother, 
respectively. 

Pamela,  a  prisoner  in  the  castle 
of  her  suitor,  is  threatened  if 
she  will  not  yield. 


A  King  of  Thessaly. 

Daughter  of  King  of  Arcadia 
feigns  that  she  was  born  in 
Cyprus. 

Heroine  is  cast  ashore  in  sight 
of  shepherd,  who  rescues 
her. 

Sephestia,  betrothed  to  Maxi- 
mius,  is  wooed  by  both 
Democles  and  Pleusidippus, 
her  own  father  and  son,  re- 
spectively. 

Samela,  a  prisoner  in  the  castle 
of  her  suitor,  is  threatened  if 
she  will  not  yield. 


And  the  artless  disclosure  of  the  oracle  at  the 
very  beginning  of  "  Menaphon,"  together  with 


444  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

the  movement  of  the  story  chronologically  from 
that  point  on,  are  probably  due  to  Greene's  in- 
ability to  master  the  complicated  technique  of 
the  "  New  Arcadia."  He  contents  himself  here 
with  imitating  the  "  Old  Arcadia,"  which  quotes 
the  oracle  at  the  beginning,  and  moves  thence  for- 
ward in  order  of  time. 

Most  numerous,  and  most  important  because 
most  structural,  are  the  elements  taken  over  into 
"  Menaphon  "  from  Greek  Romance.  These  will 
now  be  gathered  together  in  brief  summary,  each 
with  a  reference  to  its  separate  and  more  detailed 
discussion  in  the  foregoing  pages: 

Paradoxical  oracle.  Ante,  p.  422  (cf. 
"^thiopica"). 

Exposure  of  King's  daughter.  Ante,  p.  425 
(cf.  "^thiopica"). 

Shipwreck  of  King's  daughter  and  her  hus- 
band results  in  their  restoration.  Ante,  p.  410 
(cf.  "JEthiopica"). 

Heroine  quick  at  making  up  a  false  story  of 
her  birth,  parentage  and  country.  Ante,  p.  412, 
n.  43.  (cf.  "^Ethiopica"). 

Menaphon,  before  he  has  seen  Samela,  dis- 
dains love.  Ante,  p.  413-414  (cf.  "^thiopica" 
and  "Clitophon  and  Leucippe"). 

Close  association  of  Love  and  Fortune  in  a 
pastoral.  Ante,  pp.  435-436  (cf.  "  Daphnis  and 
Chloe"). 

King's  daughter  finds  her  native  land  more 
dangerous  than  foreign  lands :  antithesis  dwelt 
upon;  verbal  parallel.  Ante,  p.  415  (cf. 
'VEthiopica"). 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  445 

Gentle  ridicule  of  rustic  manners  and  dress. 
Ante,  pp.  433-4  (cf.  "Daphnis  and  Chloe"). 

"Pathetic  optics"  of  Melicertus  and  Samela's 
meeting,  Ante,  p.  419,  n.  50  (cf.  "yEthiopica"). 

Boy  carried  off  by  pirates:  detail.  Ante,  p. 
439  (cf.  "Daphnis  and  Chloe"). 

Heroine  betrothes  herself  with  understanding 
that  marriage  not  to  be  consummated  till  ful- 
filment of  oracle.  Ante,  p.  424  (cf.  "./Ethio- 
pica"). 

Heroine  and  her  lover-husband  imprisoned 
together.  Ante,  pp.  425-6  (cf.  "^Ethiopica"). 

"  Moment  of  last  suspense " ;  silence  as  to 
identity;  hieratic  agent  of  catastrophe;  recogni- 
tion; fulfilment  of  oracle;  etc.,  in  detail,  with 
verbal  parallel.  Ante,  pp.  426-8  (cf.  "yEthio- 
pica"). 

Thus  in  compounding  "  Menaphon "  Greene 
took  something  from  Warner;  more  from  Sid- 
ney, and,  through  him,  from  Greek  Romance; 
and  most  from  Greek  Romance  direct. 

Other  than  "Menaphon,"  "Pandosto"  is  the 
only  one  of  Greene's  romances  to  use  material 
from  "Daphnis  and  Chloe."  And  as  the  bor- 
rowings of  "  Pandosto "  from  Heliodorus  and 
Achilles  Tatius  have  already  been  discussed  in 
detail,  the  borrowings  from  Longus  will  now  be 
set  forth  in  their  place  as  parts  of  the  whole, 
in  the  course  of  a  general  summary  similar  to 
that  just  given  (ante,  p.  444)  in  the  case  of 
"Menaphon."  The  plot  of  "Pandosto,"  how- 
ever, need  not  be  analyzed  here ;  in  its  large  out- 
line the  same  as  that  of  "The  Winter's  Tale," 


446  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

which  is  based  upon  it,  it  may  be  assumed  to  be 
well  known. 

As  soon  as  Greene  has  finished  with  the  im- 
mediate consequences  of  his  opening  situation — 
the  jealousy  of  King  Pandosto  and  the  imprison- 
ment of  his  Queen,  Bellaria — the  earmarks  of 
Greek  Romance  begin  to  appear.  Heliodorus's 
turn  comes  first.  Pandosto's  infant  daughter — 
later  called  Fawnia — is  exposed  for  .reasons  and 
under  circumstances  the  same  as  those  in  the 
case  of  Chariclea  (ante,  p.  424)  :  father's  jealous 
suspicion ;  commitment  of  child  to  Fortune ;  ad- 
dition of  tokens  for  identification;  mother's 
lament.  Deeper,  though  less  specific,  is  the  im- 
press of  the  "yEthiopica "  upon  the  trial-scene, 
with  its  attempt  to  borrow,  not  motif  and  inci- 
dent only,  but  the  Heliodorean  method:  transi- 
tional ensemble  scene;  trial  and  vindication  of 
chastity;  oracle  vindicating  chastity  and  promot- 
ing restoration  of  exposed  child ;  suspense ; 
pathos;  sudden  turn;  theatrical  activity  of  For- 
tune (ante,  pp.  420-421). 

Upon  Bellaria's  death,  the  interest  shifts  to  the 
fortunes  of  Fawnia  among  the  shepherds.  For 
these,  constituting  the  second  part  of  his  romance, 
Greene  may  have  taken  a  hint  from  the  fortunes 
of  Chariclea,  who  was  likewise  reared  by  shep- 
herds ("jEth.,"  IV.  viii).  But  it  could  have 
been  only  a  hint.  Heliodorus  does  not  enlarge 
upon  the  pastoral  bringing  up  of  his  heroine ;  and 
clearly  enough  the  obvious  source  for  pastoral 
detail  would  be  "Daphnis  and  Chloe."  In  fact, 
with  the  death  of  the  King's  son  and  heir  Garin- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  447 

ter  (ante,  p.  421),  Longus  enters  Greene's  story, 
not  to  leave  it  till  the  pastoral  portion  of  it  is 
done.  Greene  borrows  from  Longus  this  Motif 
of  the  death  of  the  elder  after  the  exposure  of 
the  younger  child,  and  numerous  details  and  inci- 
dents of  the  finding  of  Fawnia,  of  her  rural  life, 
and  of  her  foster-father's  discovery  of  her  to  her 
real  father.  These  he  obtains,  mostly,  by  com- 
pounding particulars  regarding  Daphnis  with  cor- 
responding particulars  regarding  Chloe,  and  using 
the  composite  for  Fawnia.  The  Table  on  pp. 
448-450  shows  Greene's  borrowings,  and  shows, 
too,  (see  *)  that  Greene  used  Day's  version, 
taking  from  it  several  details  that  are  not  in  the 
Greek  or  in  Amyot. 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION 


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THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  451 

Between  the  shepherd's  resolve  and  his  dis- 
closure (see  last  two  entries  in  the  Table), 
Dorastus  and  Fawnia  elope  on  shipboard,  and 
are  at  first  favored  by  Fortune  with  fair  winds, 
but  are  soon  overtaken  by  a  storm  and  driven  to 
Bohemia,  a  country  at  that  time  hostile  to  them 
(302).  The  shipwreck  of  eloping  lovers  upon 
a  hostile  shore  is  of  course  an  inevitable  incident 
of  Greek  Romance,  and  occurs  both  to  Clitophon 
and  Leucippe  (III.  i-iv)  and  to  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea  (V.  xxvii-xxviii).  Next,  before 
Fawnia  is  identified  by  means  of  the  shepherd's 
disclosure  of  the  circumstances  under  which  he 
found  her,  Pandosto,  not  knowing  who  she  is, 
woos  her  brutally,  with  threats  and  insults  like 
those  of  Thersander  to  Leucippe  (A.  T.,  VI.  xx). 
And  now  appears  a  motif  from  Heliodorus 
again :  King  Pandosto  not  knowing  his  daughter 
Fawnia,  who  after  her  exposure  has  been  re- 
stored to  him,  orders  her  to  be  put  to  death  (314- 
315).  The  incident  comes  from  the  "^Ethio- 
pica  " :  King  Hydaspes,  not  knowing  his  daughter 
Chariclea,  who  after  her  exposure  has  been  re- 
stored to  him,  orders  her  to  be  put  to  death 
(X.  vii  ff.).  In  each  story  this  incident  occupies 
the  same  position  and  performs  the  same  struc- 
tural function:  it  gives  a  "moment  of  last  sus- 
pense "  before  the  final  disclosure,  recognition, 
and  happy  ending  (ante,  pp.  426  ff). 

Much  of  the  foregoing  material,  taken  by 
Greene  from  the  Greek  Romances,  and  embodied 
in  "  Pandosto,"  Shakespeare  in  turn  takes  over 
into  "The  Winter's  Tale."  He  discards  the 


452  THE   GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

borrowings  from  Achilles  Tatius — the  brutal 
wooing — for  he  is  not  going  to  let  Leontes  woo 
Perdita.  But  he  utilizes  some  of  Greene's  bor- 
rowings from  Heliodorus  and  most  of  those  from 
Longus.  The  exposure  with  tokens,  the  express 
commitment  to  Fortune,  ("W.  T.,"  II.  iii, 
179 if),  and  the  trial  scene,  with  its  oracle  and 
peripeteia,  are  in  Shakespeare  as  in  Greene. 
How  largely  the  pastoral  details  borrowed  by 
"Pandosto"  from  "Daphnis  and  Chloe"  figure 
again  in  "  The  Winter's  Tale  "  appears  from  the 
Table  already  referred  to. 

Shakespeare  may,  indeed,  have  taken  most  of 
these  details  directly  from  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe  " 
quite  as  well  as  from  "  Pandosto."  The  Table 
shows  that  all  but  two  (  ©  )  are  in  Day  as  well 
as  in  Greene.  Moreover,  there  is  in  "The 
Winter's  Tale  "  one  detail  hitherto  unmentioned, 
which  Shakespeare  might  have  found  in  Day,  but 
could  not  have  found  in  Greene  at  all.  These 
facts  point  to  the  probability  that  Day's  "  Daphnis 
and  Chloe  "  is  not  only  a  secondary  but  a  primary 
source  of  "  The  Winter's  Tale." 

The  detail  just  mentioned  is  that  of  the  hunt 
(W.  T.,  III.  iii)  ;  and  it  is  important  because  it  is 
more  than  an  ornament,  like  Chloe's  and  Fawnia's 
garland,  and  Perdita's  flowers ;  it  is  structural  to 
the  play — an  essential  of  its  dramatic  economy. 
If  one  may  be  permitted  to  reason  such  a  matter 
out  a  priori,  the  hunt  appears  to  be  necessitated 
in  some  such  way  as  this:  Shakespeare  seems  to 
have  desired  to  employ,  in  "  The  Winter's  Tale," 
normal  causation  and  human  motive  wherever 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  453 

possible,  instead  of  chance.  This  desire  would 
render  him  dissatisfied  with  Greene's  easy  fashion 
of  letting  mere  Fortune  cast  the  child  on  the 
coast  of  the  very  country  where  reigns  the  un- 
justly suspected  friend  of  her  father, — the 
country  where  that  friend's  son  will  afterward 
fall  in  love  with  this  very  child  grown  to  girlhood. 
Shakespeare  perhaps  realized  that  while  a  ro- 
mancer might  properly  ask  such  a  favor  of  For- 
tune— notoriously  the  guide  and  mistress  of  Ro- 
mance, yet  a  dramatist  was  bound  more  closely 
to  probability.  For  the  purpose,  then,  of  getting 
the  child  exposed  in  Bohemia  and  nowhere  else, 
he  invented  Antigonus.  Leontes  commissions 
Antigonus  to  expose  it  somewhere,  and  Anti- 
gonus's  own  belief  in  Hermione's  guilt — together 
with  the  request  of  Hermione's  phantom  in  a 
dream  supposed  to  be  sent  by  Apollo — leads  him 
to  expose  it  in  Bohemia,  the  country  of  the  child's 
supposed  father: 

Ant.  "  I  do  believe 

Hermione  hath  suffered  death,  and  that 
Apollo  would,  this  being  indeed  the  issue 
Of  King  Polixenes,  it  should  here  be  laid, 
Either  for  life  or  death,  upon  the  earth 
Of  its  right  father." 

(W.  T.,  III.  iii,  41  ff.) 

Once  invented,  however,  Antigonus  must  be 
killed  as  soon  as  he  has  performed  his  task  of 
exposing  Perdita;  and  this  both  for  the  sake  of 
poetic  justice,  because  he  is  willing  to  carry  out 
his  King's  cruel  behest,  and  for  the  sake  of  put- 


454  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

ting  him  completely  out  of  the  way,  that  Leontes 
may  not  learn  from  him  of  Perdita's  fate. 
Something  is  needed  to  kill  Antigonus. 

Together  with  this  need  arises  the  need  for 
some  plausible  means  of  inducing  a  shepherd, 
who  would  not  ordinarily  walk  along  the  beach, 
to  go  thither  and  find  the  exposed  child.  In 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe "  the  children  are  found 
inland,  in  a  thicket  and  a  cave  respectively ;  there 
is  no  question  of  the  seaside  or  of  any  reason 
why  the  herdsman  should  walk  there;  and, 
furthermore,  the  straying  of  the  she-goat  and  the 
ewe,  which  leads  the  herdsman  to  the  child,  is 
motived  by  the  desire  to  give  it  suck.  Greene 
had  eliminated  this  motive,  but  at  the  same  time 
had  given  himself  a  new  problem  in  having  the 
child  cast  ashore,  and  thus  requiring  that  the 
shepherd  be  led  thither.  This  problem  he  slurred 
over,  simply  letting  the  sheep  stray  for  no  par- 
ticular reason  and  letting  the  shepherd  hear  the 
child  cry.  With  such  careless  motivation  and  de- 
pendence upon  chance  Shakespeare  was  appar- 
ently as  dissatisfied  as  he  was  with  the  fortuitous 
casting  of  the  child  upon  just  the  shore  where  it 
would  later  be  required. 

Both  problems  he  finds  solved  at  once  in  an- 
other passage  of  "Daphnis  and  Chloe," — a 
passage  which  gives  him  both  the  means  to  punish 
Antigonus  and  the  means  to  drive  the  sheep  to 
the  seaside.  This  is  the  incident  ("D.  and  C.," 
II.  xiii)  of  the  young  Methymnaeans'  hunting, 
the  noise  of  which  frightens  the  sheep  and  goats 
from  their  upland  pastures  down  to  the  shore. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  455 

What  more  consonant  with  dramatic  economy 
than  that  Shakespeare  should  have  borrowed  this 
hunt,  and  have  used  it  both  to  send  the  bear  that 
devours  Antigonus,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
frighten  the  sheep  away  from  the  hills  so  that  the 
shepherd  must  seek  them  along  the  shore  and 
there  find  the  child  ?  This,  at  any  rate,  is  the  use 
Shakespeare  has  made  of  the  hunt. 

Now,  the  motif  of  the  hunt  is  not  in  Greene. 
There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Shakespeare 
invented  it,  when  it  lay  ready  to  his  hand  in  Day's 
version  of  "  Daphnis  and  Chloe"  (64-65). 

Shakespeare  has  thus  substituted  natural  causa- 
tion and  human  agency  in  the  place  of  Fortune, 
to  bring  about  first  Perdita's  exposure  in  Bo- 
hemia, and  next  the  finding  of  her  by  the  shep- 
herd. In  the  same  way  he  rejects  the  storm, 
which,  in  "Pandosto"  (302),  by  chance  again, 
sent  Dorastus  and  Fawnia  to  the  land  of  her 
hostile  father;  and  substitutes  for  it  Camillo's 
deliberate  advice  and  Florizel's  avowed  decision 
to  visit  Leontes  in  Sicillia  ("W.  T.,"  IV.  iv, 
546  ft).  At  no  less  than  three  points,  then,  all 
of  them  structural,  the  TV^TJ  of  Heliodorus  and 
Achilles  Tatius,  the  overworked  Fortune  of 
Greene,  gives  place,  in  Shakespeare,  to  motive 
and  probable  cause.  The  familiar  material  of 
Greek  Romance,  selected  haphazard  by  the  writer 
of  English  fiction,  has  undergone  at  the  hands  of 
the  dramatist  a  second  process  of  sifting, — this 
time  with  full  artistic  intent. 


Considered  at  large,  the  influence  of  the  Greek 
Romances  upon  Greene  exhibits  a  definite  chron- 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

ological  movement.  It  begins  with  mere  tran- 
scripts from  Achilles  Tatius  in  "Arbasto" 
(1584),  "Morando"  (1587;  ?  1584)  and  "Carde 
of  Fancie"  (1587;  ?  1584) — a  stage  of  imma- 
turity and  superficiality,  which,  in  the  main,  bor- 
rows non-structural  ornament.  "  Philomela," 
which  seems  to  fall  in  immediately  after  this 
group,  shows  Greene  taking  less  from  Achilles 
Tatius  (only  the  trial  at  the  end),  and  more 
from  Heliodorus,  chiefly  by  way  of  incident, — 
not  yet  by  way  of  structure.  The  influence  of 
the  Greek  Romances  reaches  its  height  in  "  Pan- 
dosto"  (1588),  which  takes  a  little  from  Achilles 
Tatius,  but  now  gets  structure  as  well  as  matter 
from  the  solid  Heliodorus,  together  with  incident 
and  ornament  from  the  decorative  Longus.  The 
influence  degenerates  at  once  in  "  Menaphon " 
(1589),  which,  though  structurally  based  upon 
Heliodorus,  is  a  tissue  of  absurdities — apparently 
one  of  those  pamphlets  that  Greene  "  yarkt  up  in 
a  night  and  a  day";  a  "pot-boiler"  in  imitation 
of  the  "Arcadia"  and  of  his  own  successful 
"  Pandosto,"  many  of  whose  motifs  it  repeats  in 
thin  disguise.  Almost  ceasing  in  the  realistic 
pamphlets  of  Greene's  last  years,  the  influence  of 
Greek  Romance  flickers  up  for  a  moment  in 
his  half-realistic,  half -autobiographical  "  Groats- 
worth"  (1592) — appropriately  enough  in  the 
form  of  a  suggestion  from  Achilles  Tatius  (ante, 
p.  406),  who  is  thus,  as  has  been  said,  Greene's 
first  and  latest  love  among  the  Greek  Romancers. 
If  it  be  asked  what  was  the  effect  of  the  Greek 
Romances  upon  Greene  as  a  literary  artist,  the 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  457 

answer  must  in  general  be  negative.  Despite  his 
appropriation,  for  the  nonce,  of  their  material 
and  their  structure,  Greene  never  assimilated 
these,  as  he  assimilated  Euphuism  and  as  he 
assimilated  the  Italian  novella,  so  as  to  be  able  to 
originate  them.  Unlike  Sidney,  he  never  learned 
to  invent  Romances  of  his  own,  as  he  did  learn  to 
invent  novelle  of  his  own.  The  nearest  he  can 
come  to  Greek  Romance  is  in  some  of  its  faults 
— its  tychomania,  its  general  dearth  of  character, 
its  distorted  "  psychology,"  its  labored  antitheses. 
When  he  attempts  the  sustained  elaborate  oracle- 
guided  plot  of  Heliodorus,  he  fails  even  with  the 
"Arcadia"  before  him  as  model.  When  he  at- 
tempts the  Heliodorean  setting,  he  fails  again. 
The  best  he  can  do  with  Longus  is  to  take  over 
his  motifs  directly;  the  best  he  can  do  with 
Achilles  Tatius  is  to  transcribe  almost  verbatim 
his  adventitious  ornament. 

To  the  English  novel,  therefore,  the  Greek 
Romances  make  only  an  inconsiderable  contribu- 
tion through  Greene.  It  would  be  interesting, 
though  idle,  to  speculate  what  might  have  been 
the  result  had  Greene  been  ready  to  learn  from 
Greek  Romance  what  Lyly  learned  at  second  or 
third  hand,  the  lesson  of  articulation  of  material, 
— a  lesson  spread  upon  every  page  of  Boccaccio ; 
or  had  he,  like  Sidney,  been  capable  of  acquiring 
at  first  hand  the  full  practice  of  Heliodorus's 
technique.  One  might  as  well  wonder  what 
would  have  been  the  result  had  Greene  possessed 
a  strong  sense  of  causal  nexus,  of  motive,  of 
character,  and  of  setting.  In  the  first  case,  he 


45$  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

would  have  produced,  like  Sidney,  Greek  Ro- 
mance in  English;  in  the  second  he  would  have 
produced  an  English  novel.  Needless  to  say,  he 
did  neither.  The  best  of  Greene,  and  the  best  of 
what  Greene  found  in  Greek  Romance,  is  in 
"The  Winter's  Tale." 


CHAPTER  IV 
THOMAS  NASH  AND  THOMAS  LODGE 

Nash  makes  no  use  whatever  of  the  Greek 
Romances. 

Lodge  alludes  twice  to  the  "^Ethiopica."  At 
the  beginning  of  "  Forbonius  and  Prisceria " 
(published  with  "An  Alarum  against  Usurers," 
1584)  he  places  the  scene  "In  Memphis  (the 
chiefest  citie  of  Aegypt)  ...  at  such  time  as 
Sisimithres  was  head  Priest  of  the  same,  & 
Hidaspes  gouernour  of  the  Prouince " ;  and  he 
makes  his  heroine  the  daughter  of  "  Valduuia, 
daughter  and  heire  of  Theagines  of  Greece,  the 
copartener  of  sorrowe  with  Carlcleala,  the 
straunge  borne  childe  of  the  Aegyptian  King" 
(Hunterian  Club  ed.,  I,  53,  54 — modern  paging). 
So  that  Prisceria  is  a  granddaughter  of  Helio- 
dorus's  hero  and  heroine.  Her  pedigree  argues 
the  popularity  of  the  "^Ethiopica  " ;  Lodge  would 
have  no  motive  for  professing  to  continue  a  story 
that  was  not  widely  and  favorably  known. 
Lodge's  own  story,  however,  shows  no  other  trace 
of  Heliodorus. 

In  the  "History  of  Robert,  Second  Duke  of 
Normandy"  1591  (Hunterian  Club  ed.,  II,  52), 
the  Soldan  of  Babylon,  in  love  with  Emine, 
daughter  of  the  Emperor  of  Rome,  asks  his  peers 
not  to  disapprove  the  match: 

"Princes  woonder  not,  Theagines  a  Greeke, 
459 


460  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

loued  Cariclia  a  Moore,  &  your  Souldan  a  Ma- 
hometist,  his  Emine  a  Christian." 

The  remainder  of  this  tale,  like  "  Forbonius 
and  Prisceria,"  shows  not  the  slightest  indebted- 
ness to  Heliodorus. 

Nor  does  Lodge  in  general  exhibit  the  influ- 
ence of  Greek  Romance.  An  incident  or  two,  an 
antithesis,  a  habit  of  using  the  pastoral  to  bring 
about  the  happy  ending  of  an  urban  story, — 
these,  which  might  be  attributable  to  the  "yEthio- 
pica"  or  to  "Daphnis  and  Chloe"  if  their  evi- 
dence were  corroborated,  fall  short  of  probative 
force,  and  are  not  worth  citation.  Lodge's  prose 
fiction  on  the  whole  is  mediaeval,  Euphuistic,  and 
Italianate  rather  than  Hellenistic. 


CONCLUSION 

The  influence  of  Greek  Romance  is  variously 
felt  by  the  chief  writers  of  Elizabethan  prose 
fiction.  Lyly  feels  it  as  a  tradition  of  certain 
conventions  of  form  adapted  to  the  treatment  of 
the  theme  of  Two  Friends;  and  it  thus  econo- 
mizes his  effort  in  developing  and  articulating 
the  plot  of  "  Euphues."  Lodge  scarcely  feels  it ; 
Nash  feels  it  not  at  all.  Greene  gets  from  it  a 
quantity  of  ornament  and  tinsel,  and  an  abortive 
impulse  towards  structure.  Only  in  Sidney  does 
Greek  Romance  find  a  talent  both  receptive  and 
constructive.  Sidney  alone  moves  freely  among 
the  materials  and  the  structures  offered  him  by 
Heliodorus  and  Achilles  Tatius, — selecting,  com- 
bining, separating,  adding  matter  of  his  own  or 
from  other  sources;  working,  when  he  will,  in 
the  spirit  of  his  original,  without  borrowing  a 
specific  thing;  working,  when  he  will,  in  a  spirit 
of  his  own  that  transforms  even  specific  borrow- 
ings. He  alone  exhibits  the  untrammelled  stride 
of  the  literary  artist  who,  having  closed  the  books 
that  constitute  his  "  sources,"  has  their  contents 
in  his  mind,  remembered  abundantly,  but  not  re- 
membered so  exactly  as  to  be  inflexible.  Above 
all,  he  alone  among  the  Elizabethans  has  devel- 
oped further  on  his  own  account,  and  has  actually 
brought  nearer  perfection,  the  complex  architec- 
tonics of  Greek  Romance. 
461 


46z  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

And  it  was  in  this  direction  that  English  fiction 
was  tending.  The  novella  had  had  a  magnificent, 
a  double  "  fortune  "  in  England.  It  had  inspired 
similar  English  novelle,  so  easily  turned,  for  ex- 
ample, by  Greene;  and  then  it  had  found  upon 
the  Elizabethan  stage  the  form  most  completely 
expressive  of  that  single  dramatic  situation 
wherein  the  essence  of  the  novella  consists.  But 
now,  in  the  Seventeenth  Century,  its  vogue  was 
passing  away.  The  drama  was  declining;  and 
fiction  was  turning  to  the  more  elaborate,  expan- 
sive, and  structural  form  of  the  romance,  from 
which  it  was  acquiring  the  longue  haleine  that  is 
the  condition  precedent  to  the  novel.  As  Rohde 
has  suggested,  the  relation  of  the  novella  to  the 
romance  of  the  Seventeenth  Century — and,  we 
may  add,  to  the  modern  novel — is  much  the  same 
as  the  relation  of  the  Milesian  Tales  to  the 
"^thiopica."  In  neither  case  does  the  greater 
form  build  itself  up  out  of  the  lesser:  the  differ- 
ence is  a  difference  in  kind. 

It  is  probable  that  during  the  Seventeenth  Cen- 
tury the  chief  influence  of  Greek  Romance  form 
upon  English  fiction  came  rather  through  the 
French  romances  than  through  any  Elizabethan 
work.  Yet  to  assert  that,  as  far  as  later  English 
fiction  is  concerned,  Elizabethan  fiction  is  a  closed 
system,  with  its  only  issue  opening  into  the  drama, 
would  be  a  hard  saying  indeed.  Sidney's  "Ar- 
cadia," long  surviving  the  vogue  of  "  Euphues  " 
and  of  Greene's  tales,  remained  popular  through- 
out the  Seventeenth  Century,  and  alive  well  into 
the  Eighteenth.  Categorically  to  deny  to  it  a 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  463 

share  in  building  up  the  novel  that  was  to  come 
would  be  extremely  rash.  It  seems  safer  to  say 
that  when  at  length  character  and  personality 
entered  English  fiction,  the  frame  had  been  pre- 
pared for  them,  at  least  in  part,  by  the  labors  of 
Sidney.  Certain  it  is  that  Richardson,1  certain  it 
is  that  Scott,2  knew  the  "Arcadia,"  and  used  it; 
more,  that  they  used  somewhat  in  the  "  Arcadia  " 
which  the  "Arcadia"  got  from  Greek  Romance. 
In  general,  then,  it  appears  not  only  that  the 
Greek  Romances  contributed  variously  to  Eliza- 
bethan fiction  itself,  but  also  that,  mediately,  by 
way  of  Elizabethan  fiction,  they  made  two  dis- 
tinct further  contributions  to  English  literature. 
The  one  contribution,  which  is  quite  beyond 
doubt,  is  a  contribution  to  the  drama:  it  can  be 
definitely  identified  at  its  highest  in  "  King  Lear  " 
and  in  "  The  Winter's  Tale."  The  other  contri- 
bution— the  contribution  to  the  development  of 
the  novel — will  remain  somewhat  problematic 

1  Richardson's  indebtedness  to  Sidney  does  not  seem  to 
have  been  thoroughly  investigated.  All  that  has  been 
noticed  is,  I  believe,  the  borrowed  name  "  Pamela " 
(Gassmeyer,  p.  u  ;  Poetzsche,  p.  41).  A  quite  desultory 
examination  turns  up  two  interesting  parallels,  of  which 
the  second  is  very  significant.  (i)  Clarissa's  threat  of 
suicide  to  save  her  honor  ("  Clarissa,"  IV,  p.  160)  may  be 
an  imitation  of  Philoclea's  similar  threat  in  a  similar  situa- 
tion— viz.  captivity  in  the  house  of  a  lover  ("  Arcadia," 
III.  xxiv).  (2)  Miss  Byron's  abduction  by  Sir  Hargrave 
Pollexfen  ("Grandison,"  v.  I,  Letter  xxii  ff.)»  another  ab- 
duction meant  to  force  a  lady  to  yield  to  a  lover,  is 
apparently  a  reminiscence  of  the  similar  abduction  of  the 
Arcadian  princesses  ("  Arcadia,"  III)  ;  it  takes  place  at  a 
masquerade,  to  which  Miss  Byron  goes  as  "  an  Arcadian 
princess." 

1  Wolff,  "  Scott's  Ivanhoe  and  Sidney's  Arcadia."  Kerlin, 
"  Scott's  Ivanhoe  and  Sidney's  Arcadia." 


464  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

until  the  exact  nature  of  the  influence  of  Eliza- 
bethan fiction  upon  the  Eighteenth  Century  is 
cleared  up.  Meanwhile  it  seems  not  too  much  to 
suggest,  tentatively,  as  a  proposition  not  yet  fully 
established  but  not  lightly  to  be  denied,  that  the 
Greek  Romances,  partly  through  French  Ro- 
mance of  the  Seventeenth  Century,  partly  through 
a  single  Elizabethan  Romance — the  "Arcadia," 
helped  to  give  to  the  English  novel  that  gift 
which  Greek  literature  has  so  often  conferred, — 
the  gift  of  sustained  and  complex  form.  Just  as 
the  "Arcadia,"  the  only  work  of  Elizabethan 
fiction  possessing  such  form,  was  also  the  only 
work  of  Elizabethan  fiction  to  exert  a  lasting 
influence,  so  whatever  of  the  Greek  Romances 
may  survive  in  the  modern  novel  is  not  their  illu- 
sion, but  that  architectonic  power  in  them  which 
despite  themselves  makes  against  illusion  and 
toward  law. 


APPENDIX   A 

TEXTUAL  NOTES  ON  THE  RELATION  BETWEEN 

DAY'S  AND  AMYOT'S  VERSIONS  OF 

"  DAPHNIS  AND  CHLOE  " 

(Arabic  numbers  at  left  refer  to  pages  in  Da.) 

PROOEMIUM 
Da  omits  the  Prooemium. 

BOOK  I 

13.  Inserts  stanza  of  prayer  to  the  winged  god. 

19-25.  Inserts  in  the  hiatus  (not  filled  authen- 
tically until  1809  by  P.  L.  Courier)  an  inter- 
polation apparently  his  own.  It  begins  p.  19: 
"  The  louely  shepehard  thus  raized  up  from  so 
depe  a  dongeon,"  and  ends,  p.  25,  "...  hee 
brake  into  these  farther  complaints."  In- 
formation given  by  the  preserved  text  after  the 
lacuna  enabled  Day  to  supply  several  points  in 
the  lacuna  itself, — viz.  that  Dorco  was  the  name 
of  the  cowherd  who  had  helped  to  rescue  Daphnis 
from  the  pit ;  that  Dorco  was  in  love  with  Chloe ; 
that  Dorco  had  given  Daphnis1  a  calf;  that  love 

1  The  authentic  passage  found  by  Courier  makes  the  calf 
a  gift  to  Chloe  ("  D.  &  C,"  I.  xv,  D  136,  line  21  sqq.). 
Daphnis's  soliloquy,  without  the  light  shed  on  it  by  the 
fragment,  leaves  the  recipient  unindicated  ("  D.  &  C.,"  I. 
xviii,  D  137,  line  25-6).  Amyot,  in  doubt,  made  Daphnis 
the  recipient :  "  J'ay  souvent  baise  .  .  .  le  petit  veau  que 
Dorcon  w'a  donne  "  (A  23).  Day  followed  him :  "  Often 
have  I  kissed  .  .  .  that  fine  speckled  calf  that  Dorcon  did 
give  me"  (Da  25);  and  accordingly  made  his  reconstruc- 

31  465 


466  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

had  arisen  between  Daphnis  and  Chloe ;  and  that 
Chloe  had  given  Daphnis  a  kiss.  But  the  re- 
mainder Day  must  have  cut  out  of  the  whole 
cloth : — the  sentiments  of  Daphnis ;  the  gifts, 
other  than  the  calf,  brought  by  Dorco  to  Daphnis 
and  Chloe  ;2  and  Dorco's  efforts  to  make  himself 
agreeable  by  becoming  neater  in  person  and  at- 
tire. For  this  last  a  hint  may  have  come  to  Day 
from  Amyot's  version  of  the  end  of  Daphnis's 
soliloquy:  "Dorcon  a  la  fin  deviendra  plus  beau 
que  moy"  (23). 

33-34.  Expands  the  account  of  D.  and  C.'s 
emotions  upon  their  meeting  after  the  night  of 
sleep  induced  by  fatigue;  and  adds  much  of  his 
own  thereto.  (I.  xxii-xxiii ;  A  28 ;  B  278.) 

35-6.  Expands  comparison  of  Chloe  to  a  nymph. 
(I.  xxiv;  A  29;  B  279.)  Omits  D.  &  C.'s  sport- 
ive pelting  of  each  other  with  apples.  (I.  xxiv; 
A  30;  B  279.) 

36-7,37-8.  Inserts  two  songs  sung  by  Daphnis. 
Omits  Daphnis's  kissing  the  stops  of  the  flute 
touched  by  Chloe's  lips.  (I.  xxiv;  A  301;  B 
279.) 

47.  Inserts  at  the  end  of  his  First  Book,  a 
prose  paragraph  beginning  "  And  thus  continuing 
in  these  variable  fits  liued  pore  Daphnis";  and 
an  amoeboeic  duo  in  verse  between  D.  and  C. 

BOOK  II 

49-52.  Expands  the  vintage-scene, — especially 
the  women's  commendation  of  Daphnis's  beauty, 

tion  of  the  missing  portion  consistent :  "  To  Daphnis  be- 
sides gave  hee  (sc.  Dorcon)  a  yoong  fatte  calfe  from  the 
damme  "  (Da  23). 
3  By  a  happy  chance,  he  hit  upon  cheeses  and  flowers. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  467 

and  the  incident  of  the  kiss  bestowed  on  him 
by  one  of  them.  (II.  i-ii;  A  41-3;  B  285.) 

61-62.  Greatly  abridges  the  musings  of  D.  & 
C.  upon  the  remedies  for  love  as  suggested  by 
Philetas,  their  dreams  thereon,  and  their  attempts 
to  find  these  remedies.  (II.  viii-xi,  incl. ;  A  49- 
53 ;  B  290-1 ; — from  the  end  of  Philetas's  speech 
to  the  beginning  of  the  episode  of  the  Methym- 
naeans.)  Omits  the  accident  that  somewhat  for- 
wards these  attempts.  (II.  x-xi;  A  52-3;  B 
291.) 

62.  Inserts  a  set  of  verses — a  love-plaint  to  be 
carved  by  Daphnis  upon  the  bark  of  trees. 

66.  Abridges  the  pleas  of  the  Methymaeans  and 
of  Daphnis.  (II.  xv-xvi;  A  57-8;  B  293-4.) 

69-70.  Inserts  set  of  verses — the  complaint  of 
Daphnis  to  the  Nymphs. 

72.  Expands  and  pads  out  the  speech  of  the 
nymph  in  Daphnis's  vision.  (II.  xxiii;  A  65 ;  B 
297.)  Omits  the  nymph's  attribution  of  the  care 
of  D.  &  C.  to  Love;  and  inserts  statements  at- 
tributing it  to  the  Nymphs. 

82.  Inserts  a  "rufull  complaint"  in  verse, 
"chaunted  forth  by  Daphnis." 

BOOK  III 

98-100.  Omits  Daphnis's  drinking  from  the 
same  cup  as  Chloe.  (Ill,  viii;  A  89;  B  310.) 
Shortens  Daphnis's  winter  visit  by  omitting  all 
account  of  the  second  day  thereof.  (Ill,  x-xi; 
A  90-91 ;  B  311.)  (This  second  day  he  makes 
the  shepherds'  holiday.) 

100-123.  Omits  from  his  Third  Book  every- 


468  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

thing  in  A  from  the  end  of  Daphnis's  winter  visit 
to  the  end  of  the  Book  (onward  from  III.  xii; 
D  158;  A  91 ;  B  310) — nearly  three  quarters  of 
the  original  Book.  The  omitted  portion  includes 
(a)  the  coming  of  spring;  (&)  the  lesson  in  love; 
(c)  the  sailors'  song;  (d)  the  myth  of  Echo; 
(?)  Daphnis's  dream  of  the  treasure,  his  finding 
of  it,  and  his  suit  for  Chloe  with  it;  (/)  the 
idyl  of  the  apple.  Inserts  in  place  of  these  "  The 
Shepherds'  Holiday  " — a  barren  and  frigid  inven- 
tion of  his  own  in  praise  of  Queen  Elizabeth ;  and 
so  fills  out  and  concludes  his  Third  Book. 

BOOK  IV 

124-135.  Transposes  to  the  opening  of  his 
Fourth  Book  most  of  the  matter  omitted  from 
his  Third —viz.  (a),  (c),  (d),  (*),  (/). 

124-5.  Abridges  (a).  (III.  xii-xiv;  A  91- 
95;  B  311-313.)  Omits  (&).  (III.  xv-xx; 
xxiv;  A  95-100;  103-4;  B  313-16;  318.) 

125.  Abridges  (c).  (III.  xxi;  A  100-102;  B 
316-17.) 

125-7.  Gives  (</)  in  full.  (III.  xxii,  xxiii;  A 
102-3;  B  317-18.) 

130-133.  Slightly  abridges  (e),  omitting  the 
dolphin.  (III.  xxv-xxxii;  A  104-114;  B  319- 

23-) 

134-5.  Slightly  abridges  (/),  omitting  the  odor 
of  the  fruit.  (III.  xxxiii,  xxxiv;  A  115-117; 

B  324-5.) 

136.  Greatly  abridges  the  description  of  La- 
mon's  garden,  omitting  the  view  to  be  had  from 
it;  and  the  paintings  in  the  temple  of  Bacchus. 
(IV.  ii-iii;  A  119-21;  B  326.) 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  469 

142-3.  Abridges  and  greatly  weakens  the  de- 
scription of  Daphnis  as  he  first  appeared  to 
Dionysophanes  and  Clearista.  (IV.  xiv;  A  132, 

B  I33-) 

143.  Omits  Daphnis's  performance  with  the 
musically  trained  goats.  (IV.  xv;  A  133;  B 

333-) 

143.  Omits  Gnatho's  description  of  Daphnis. 
(IV.  xvii;  A  135-6;  B  335.)  Omits  Gnatho's 
arguments,  and  slightly  abridges  the  whole  inci- 
dent, but  retains  its  essentials.  (IV.  xvii;  A 

135-6;  B  335-6.) 

148.  Confuses  Dionysophanes's  account  of  the 
exposure  of  Daphnis  (IV.  xxiv;  A  142)  and  in- 
troduces "  Sophrosine  his  man "  from  IV.  xxi ; 
A  140;  at  the  same  time  changing  the  sex  of 
this  "  nostre  servante  Sophrosyne." 

149-50.  Abridges  Chloe's  lament  upon  Daph- 
nis's supposed  desertion  of  her.  (IV.  xxvii;  A 
145 ;  B  340.)  Omits  Daphnis's  soliloquy  upon 
hearing  that  Lampis  has  carried  off  Chloe.  (IV. 
xxviii;  A  146;  B  341.) 

Towards  end  of  Fourth  Book.  Omits  the 
dream  of  Dionysophanes  (IV.  xxiv;  A  152;  B 
344)  and  the  dream  of  Megacles  (IV.  xxxv;  A 
154;  B  345). 

At  end  of  Fourth  Book.  Omits  the  account 
of  D.  &  C.'s  children,  and  of  D.  &  C.'s  devotion 
to  Eros,  Pan,  and  the  Nymphs.  (IV.  xxxix; 
A  156 ;B  346.) 


APPENDIX   B 

NOTES  AND  TRANSCRIPTS:  "CLIFFORD"  MS.  OF 
SIDNEY'S  "ARCADIA" 

Fol.  2  recto  begins :  "  The  first  Booke  or  Acte 
of  the  Countefs  of  Pembrookes  Arcadia." 
("Arcadia"  ends  on  fol.  216  recto.) 

2  verso.     Oracle  to  Basilius,  Duke  of  Arcadia. 

3-4.  Philanax  discusses  it. 

4V.  Basilius's  family  and  his  disposition  of  its 
members.  Ibid.  Account  of  Evarchus,  the  just 
King  of  Macedon ;  his  war  with  Kings  of  Thrace, 
Pannonia  and  Epyrus,  who  invade  his  kingdom. 

5r.  He  sends  "his  youngest  sonne  Pyrocles 
(at  that  tyme  but  six  years  olde)  to  his  sister 
the  Dowager  &  Regent  of  Thessalia,  there  to  be 
brought  vp  wt  her  sonne  Musidorus.  .  .  .  And 
so  grewe  they  vntill  Pyrocles  came  to  be  xvij  and 
Musidorus  xviij  yeares  of  age :  At  whiche  tyme 
Evarchus,"  having  conquered  Thrace  and  taken 
up  his  residence  in  "  the  principal  city  of  Thrace 
called  at  that  tyme  Bisantium  .  .  .  sent  for  hys 
sonne  and  nevew  to  delyght  his  aged  eyes  in 
them  .  .  .  But  so  pleased  yt  god,  who  reserved 
them  to  greater  traverses  bothe  of  good  and  evill 
fortune,  that  the  sea  ...  stirred  to  terrible 
tempest,  forced  them  to  fall  from  theyre  course, 
vppon  the  coaste  of  Lydia.  Where,  what  befell 
vnto  them,  what  valyant  actes  they  did,  passing, 
in  one  yeares  space,  throughe  the  lesser  Asia, 
Syria  and  Egipt,  how  many  Ladyes  they  de- 
470 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  47 1 

fended  from  wronges,  and  disinherited  persons 
restored  to  theyre  righte,  yt  ys  a  worke  for  a 
higher  style  then  myne;  This  only  shall  suffyce, 
that,  theyre  fame  returned  .  .  .  fast  before  them 
into  Greece."  Returning  towards  Macedon  5v. 
"and  so  taking  Arcadia  in  theyre  way,  for  the 
fame  of  the  contry,  they  came  thether  newly  after 
that  this  straunge  solitarynes  had  possessed  Basi- 
lius.  .  .  .  They  lodged  in  the  house  of  Kerpenus 
(Karpenus?  Kersenus?)  a  principall  gentleman 
in  Mantinea  ..."  where  "walking  with  his 
hoste  in  a  fayre  gallery  (Pyrocles)  perceyved  a 
picture  "  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  and  Philoclea, 
and  fell  in  love  at  once. 

6r.-8v.  Pyrocles  discusses  love  with  Musido- 
rus,  whose  opinion  is  harsh. 

8v.  Confesses  to  Musidorus  his  love  for  Philo- 
clea, and  his  resolve  "to  take  uppon  mee  the 
estate  of  an  Amazon  Lady  goyng  aboute  the 
worlde,  to  practize  feates  of  chivalry,  and  to 
seeke  my  self  a  worthy  husband."  Pyrocles  is 
disguised.  (i3~i3v.)  His  Amazon  attire  is  de- 
scribed. He  becomes  Cleophila. 

I4v.  Pyrocles  meets  Dametas. 

17.  Is  taken  to  the  Duke,  who  falls  in  love. 

IQV.  Musidorus,  already  in  love  with  Pamela, 
and  disguised  as  shepherd,  sings  a  love-plaint. 

20.  Sidney  (not  Mus.)  explains  that  Mus.  has 
fallen  in  love  with  Pamela. 

23.  The  lion  and  the  bear. 

27.  "  Here  endes  the  ffirste  Book  or  Acte." 

28.  "  Here  begins  The  First  Eglogues." 

33.  (Part  of  First  Eclogues).     The  shepherd 


472  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Histor  relates  how  he  has  heard  the  complaint 
of  "  an  Iberian  nobleman  called  Plangus  (vttered 
to  the  wyse  shepherde  Boulon)":  Plangus  had 
lodged  with  Histor  and  had  told  his  story.  (The 
story  is  that  of  Erona,  daughter  of  a  "  Kinge  of 
Lidia,"  of  her  father,  and  of  Antiphilus  (33v.), 
whom  she  would  have  married  after  her  father's 
death ;  of  an  attack  made  upon  her  by  King 
Otones,  who  wished  her  for  himself;  of  his  sister 
Artaxia,  who  accompanied  his  army  and  sought 
to  mollify  him,  but  in  vain;  and  of  how  he  be- 
sieged Erona.  At  that  time  there  landed  in  Lidia 
the  two  Princes  Pyrocles  and  Musidorus  (34), 
who  rescued  her,  killed  Otones,  and  rescued 
Antiphilus. 

34v.  Artaxia  inconsolable  for  loss  of  her 
brother.  Antiphilus  makes  overtures  to  her,  and 
is  taken  in  an  ambush  and  killed.  Erona  is  im- 
prisoned; if  not  rescued  within  two  years  by 
Pyrocles  and  Musidorus  she  is  to  be  burned  at 
the  stake. 

35-43.  Plangus  seeks  rescue. 

43v.  The  Second  Booke  or  Acte. 

66.  "  Here  endes  the  Second  Booke  or  Acte." 

66v.  "  Here  Begin  the  Second  Eglogues." 

72-74V.  (Part  of  Second  Eclogues).  Histor 
sings  the  plaint  that  he  overheard  Plangus  make 
to  Boulon:  "Alas  how  longe  this  pilgrimage 
dothe  last." 

76.  Histor  relates  to  Pamela  the  adventures  of 
the  Princes  after  they  left  Erona.  A  giant  in 
Paphlagonia,  by  means  of  a  dragon,  levied  tribute 
consisting  of  girls  and  young  men.  Pyrocles  and 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  473 

Musidorus  offered  themselves  and  killed  both 
dragon  and  giant.  (75v.)  Next  they  arbitrated 
a  dispute  between  two  brothers  concerning  the 
throne  of  Syria. 

76.  One    brother   they   caused   to   marry   the 
heiress  of  Paphlagonia.     Next  "  the  great  Lady 
of  Palestina,  called  Andromana,"  sought  their  aid 
against  an  Arabian  prince,  and  then  fell  in  love 
with  Pyrocles  and  Musidorus.     (76v.)   She  im- 
prisoned  them;   but   when   the   Arabian   prince 
thereupon  bade  fair  to  conquer  the  country,  the 
people  released  them.     Later  Andromana  mar- 
ried  an  applemonger!     The   Princes  went   into 
Egypt. 

77.  Near  the  City  of  Memphis,  they  rescued 
Thermuthis    from   villains   who   were   about   to 
murder  him.     He  was  servant  to  Amasis,  Prince 
of  Egypt,  and  told  his  master's  story : 

"Amasis,  sonne  and  heyre  to  Sesostris,  Kinge 
of  Egipt"  was  pledged  in  love  to  Artaxia,  but 
was  solicited  by  his  young  stepmother  (not 
named)  who  being  rejected  began  to  hate  him 
(77v.),  and  plotted  to  ruin  him.  She  feigned 
love  to  Thermuthis,  Amasis's  servant,  whom  she 
corrupted;  and  then  began  to  accuse  Amasis  to 
his  father,  as  having  attempted  her  chastity. 
Further,  she  procured  Thermuthis  to  disguise 
himself  as  the  Prince,  and  be  ready  to  murder 
the  King.  But  when  she  would  have  had  him 
apprehended,  he  fled,  was  pursued  (78),  and 
found  by  Pyrocles  and  Musidorus  as  aforesaid. 
Meanwhile  Amasis  had  been  .by  his  father's  or- 
ders set  adrift  in  a  ship  on  the  Red  Sea.  Pyrocles 


474  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

and  Musidorus  rescued  him  and  got  Thermuthis 
to  tell  his  story  to  Sesostris,  who  restored  Amasis 
to  favor.  The  guilty  stepmother  killed  herself. 

79v.  So  much  did  Histor  tell  of  Plangus's  ac- 
count of  the  adventures  of  Pyrocles  and  Musi- 
dorus. Basilius  cut  him  short  in  their  praises, 
fearing  lest  Cleophila  should  be  kindled  thereby 
with  love  for  Pyrocles!  So  he  called  Philisides 
to  sing.  The  remainder  of  the  Second  Eclogue 
contains  no  further  narrative. 

82.  "Here  ende  the  Second  Eglogues  and 
Second  Booke." 

82v.  "The  Thirde  Booke  or  Acte":  "Cleo- 
phila .  .  .  went  to  the  same  place,  where  first 
shee  had  reveyled  unto  hym  (Musidorus)  her  in- 
closed passyon,  and  was  by  hym  as  you  may 
remember  with  a  ffrendly  sharpenes  reprehended. 
There  sitting  downe  amongst  the  sweete  flowers 
wherof  that  contry  was  very  plentyfull,  and  in 
the  pleasant  shade  of  a  Brodeleaved  Sicamor, 
they  recoumpted  one  to  another  theyre  straunge 
pilgrimage  of  passyons,  omitting  no  thinge  wch 
thr  open  harted  ffrendship  ys  wonte  to  lay  forth," 
etc. 

Ed.  1627,  p.  347  (after  the  gap)  : 

"After  that  Basilius  (according  to  the  Oracles 
promise)  had  receiued  home  his  daughters,  and 
settled  himself  again  in  his  solitary  course  & 
accustomed  company,  there  passed  not  many 
daies  ere  the  now  fully  recomforted  Dorus  hav- 
ing waited  a  time  of  Zelmanes  walking  alone 
towards  her  little  Arbor,  took  leave  of  his  master 
Dametas'  husbandry  to  follow  her.  Neare 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  475 

whereunto  ouertaking  her,  and  sitting  downe  to- 
gether among  the  sweet  flowers  whereof  that 
place  was  very  plentifull,  vnder  the  pleasant 
shade  of  a  broad-leaued  Sycamor,  they  re- 
counted," etc. 

[This  is  the  point  of  junction  between  the 
Old  and  the  New  Arcadia.] 

121.  "The  Third  Eglogues." 

I3OV.  "Here  ende  the  Thirde  Booke  and  Third 
Eglogues."  (Contain  no  narrative  matter — 
either  episodes  or  earlier  history  of  Princes.) 

131-166.  "The  Fourth  Booke  or  Acte."  Cor- 
responds, at  beginning — with  slight  changes — 
and  at  ending,  with  Fourth  Book  in  ed.  1627). 

166.  "  The  Ende  of  the  Fourthe  Booke." 

i66v.  "  Here  Begin  the  Fourthe  Eglogues." 

I77v.  "  Here  ende  the  Fourth  Eglogues,  and 
the  Fourthe  Booke  or  Acte." 

The  Fourth  Eglogues  contain  no  episodes,  or 
early  history  of  Pyrocles  and  Musidorus;  but 
contain  autobiographical  passage  about  Philisides 
(transcribed  by  Dobell,  p.  91-93).  Fourth  Book 
corresponds  to  Fourth  Book  of  1627. 

178-216.  "The  Ffifte  and  Last  Booke  or 
Acte."  (Begins  and  ends  at  same  points  as  Bk. 
Five  of  1627.  Begins :  "  The  dangerous  division 
of  mens  mindes  " ;  ends :  "  Wherewith  myne  is 
allready  dulled.") 

216.  But  the  list  of  unfinished  episodes  left  to 
another  pen  to  complete  differs,  in  that  the  MS 
omits  Helen  and  Amphialus  and  mentions  Amasis 
and  Artaxia.  Thus : 

"But  the  solempnityes  of  the  Marriages  with 


47^  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

the  Arcadian  pastoralls  full  of  many  Comicall 
adventures  happening  to  those  Rurall  Lovers, 
the  strange  story  of  the  fayre  Queen  Artaxia  of 
Persia  and  Erona  of  Lydia  with  the  Prince  Plan- 
gus  wonderfull  chaunces  whome  the  later  had 
sent  to  Pyrocles,  and  the  extreme  affection 
Amasis  Kinge  of  Egipt  bare  unto  the  former: 
the  Sheperdish  Loves  of  Menalcas  with  Kalo- 
dulus  daughter,"  etc. 

(So  also  Ashburnham  MS  ad  fin.) 


APPENDIX   C 

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTES  ON  WM.  BURTON'S 
TRANSLATION  OF  ACHILLES  TATIUS 

The  following  account  is  reprinted  from  the 
(London)  Times  Weekly  Edition  Literary  Sup- 
plement for  Friday,  February  10,  1905. 

AN  ELIZABETHAN  DISCOVERY 

Mr.  R.  A.  Peddie  writes  to  us  from  St.  Bride 
Foundation,  Bride-lane,  E.G.,  announcing  a  dis- 
covery of  much  interest  to  bibliographers  which 
he  has  recently  made — a  copy,  namely,  of  a  hither- 
to uncatalogued  and  undescribed  Elizabethan 
translation  of  Achilles  Tatius. 

Of  the  earliest  specimens  of  Greek  fiction  little 
is  known  save  from  lexical  works  such  as  the 
Bibliotheca  of  Photius.  Among  the  earliest 
specimens  are  the  "  Erotica  "  of  Achilles  Tatius, 
who  is  generally  supposed  to  have  been  a  con- 
temporary of  the  shadowy  Musaeus,  inspirer  of 
Marlowe's  immortal  lay  of  "  Hero  and  Leander." 
From  the  somewhat  conjectural  authority  of  the 
Dictionary  of  Suidas  we  gather  that  Tatius  was 
an  Alexandrian  Greek  and  a  highly  renowned 
rhetorician.  Originally  a  pagan,  he  eventually 
became  a  Christian  and  a  Bishop.  The  romance 
by  which  he  is  known  bears  no  kind  of  episcopal 
impress.  On  the  contrary,  the  improbable  story 
that  Heliodorus  was  obliged  to  choose  between 
477 


478  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

recalling  his  "Aethiopica"  or  resigning  his  see 
would  be  much  more  applicable  to  Tatius  and  his 
erotic  fable.  Modelled  upon  the  "Theagenes 
and  Chariclea"  of  Heliodorus,  with  many  sug- 
gestions from  Plato,  the  tale  of  Clitophon  and  his 
Leucippe  was  manifestly  designed  to  air  the 
graces  of  a  consummate  rhetorician.  This  is 
clearly  shown  in  the  opening  scene  (suggested, 
perhaps,  by  descriptions  in  the  "Amores"  and 
"Imagines"  of  Lucian),  in  which  the  narrator 
is  introduced  to  us  admiring  a  picture  of  the 
rape  of  Europa  in  the  Temple  of  Venus  at  Sidon, 
and  thinking  his  impressions  aloud,  when  he  is 
suddenly  addressed  by  a  young  Phoenician 
named  Clitophon,  who  tells  the  sympathetic  con- 
noisseur a  long-drawn  story  of  tangled  love 
(TO,  tcarct  AevKiTnrrjv  Kai  KXemH^xwira) .  The 
story  is  a  tedious,  and  in  all  respects  mediocre, 
patchwork,  as  compared,  for  instance,  with  the 
work  of  Heliodorus  or  Longus;  but  the  diction 
and  style  are  accounted  excellent,  and  the  de- 
scriptions have  received  the  compliment  of  innu- 
merable imitations.  The  work  was  highly  popu- 
lar, and  was  multiplied  regularly  during  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  first  critical  edition,  however, 
was  that  undertaken  by  Jerome  Commelinus,  and 
printed  at  Heidelberg  in  1601,  together  with  the 
"  Daphnis  and  Chloe "  of  Longus ;  but  a  much 
superior  edition,  based  upon  fresh  collations,  was 
that  undertaken  by  Milton's  enemy,  Salmasius, 
and  printed  by  Heger,  with  a  charming  frontis- 
piece, at  Ley  den  in  1640 — this  edition  is  still  in 
demand,  though  it  is  eclipsed  in  completeness  by 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE    FICTION  479 

the  Leipzig  issue  of  1776  with  Boden's  notes,  and 
by  the  volume  in  Didot's  "  Erotici  Scriptores," 
1856,  in  which  the  ancient  Latin  translation  of 
Annibal  della  Croce  (originally  printed  by  Gry- 
phius  at  Lyons  in  1544)  was  retouched  by  Hir- 
schig.  A  French  translation  by  Claude  Colet  goes 
back  as  far  as  1545.  The  earliest  complete 
Italian  version  that  we  have  seen  is  that  of 
Coccio,  Venice,  1560,  though  a  substantial  frag- 
ment had  been  rendered  by  Ludovico  Dolce  in 
1547.  The  French  took  most  kindly  to  the  tale 
and  translated  it  again  and  again.  The  most 
recherche  edition  is  that  of  Jean  Baudoin,  the 
translator  of  Sidney,  with  a  delicious  frontispiece 
by  Abraham  Bosse  (Paris,  1635),  a  book  which 
we  can  feel  morally  certain  was  in  the  library 
of  the  author  of  "  Manon  Lescaut."  The  Eng- 
lish version  commonly  referred  to  is  that  of 
Anthony  Hodges  "The  Loves  of  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe;  A  most  elegant  History  written  in 
Greeke  by  Achilles  Tatius :  and  now  Englished  " 
(Oxford,  1638).  The  previous  translation  of 
Burton  seems  to  have  been  entirely  ignored  by 
the  friends  of  the  1638  translator  (including  the 
poet  Richard  Lovelace),  who  prefix  glowing  com- 
mendatory verses  to  his  sufficiently  agreeable  and 
idiomatic  performance.  This  emphasizes  the  in- 
terest of  Mr.  Peddie's  discovery,  and  gives  rise 
to  the  suspicion  that  episcopal  activity  may  have 
suppressed  the  original  version.  The  year  1597 
was  the  identical  one  in  which  the  Archbishop 
caused  the  "  Amores  "  of  Marlowe  to  be  publicly 
burnt. 


480  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Mr.  Peddie's  letter  is  as  follows: 

"The  first  English  translation  of  Achilles 
Tatius  is  one  of  those  books  of  which  every  one 
has  heard,  but  which  no  one  appears  to  have  seen. 
No  bibliographer  gives  a  description  of  the  work 
which  even  suggests  that  he  had  seen  a  copy. 
The  entry  in  the  Stationers'  Registers  (Arber, 
III.  81),  is  as  follows: 

"Vto  Aprilis  [1597]  Thomas  Creede  Entred  for 
his  copie  vnder  th[e  hjandes  of  master  Barlowe  and 
master  warden  Dawson  a  booke  entituled  '  The  most 
delectable  and  plesant  historye  of  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe/  written  in  Greeke,  by  Achilles  Stacius 
and  Alexandrian,  and  nowe  newlie  translated  into 
Englishe  by  W.  B.  .  .  .  vjd. 

"  The  W.  B.  given  as  the  translator  was  Wil- 
liam Burton  (1575-1645),  author  of  the  'De- 
scription of  Leicestershire,'  and  elder  brother  of 
Robert  Burton,  author  of  the  '  Anatomy  of  Mel- 
ancholy.' Mr.  A.  H.  Bullen,  in  his  article  on 
William  Burton,  in  the  '  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography,'  Vol.  8,  p.  18,  says: 

"In  his  manuscript  '  Antiquitates  de  Lindley'  (an 
epitome  of  which  is  given  in  Nichols's  '  Leicester- 
shire,' IV.  651-6)  he  states  that  on  applying  himself 
to  the  study  of  law  he  still  continued  to  cultivate 
literature,  and  he  mentions  that  he  wrote  in  1596 
an  unpublished  Latin  comedy  '  De  Amoribus  Per- 
inthii  et  Tyanthes,'  and  in  1597  a  translation  (also 
unpublished)  of  'Achilles  Tatius.' 

"The  last  statement  is  altogether  unfounded, 
as  will  be  seen  from  the  following  passage  from 
the  MS.  mentioned: 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  481 

"...  Anno  sequenti  transtulit  in  linguam  ver- 
naculam  historiam  Achillis  Statii  de  Amoribus  Cli- 
tophontis  et  Leucippes  impressam  Londini  1597, 
per  Thomam  Creede."  Nichols's  "  Leicestershire," 
IV.  653. 

"  I  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  discover  a 
copy  of  this  exceedingly  rare  Tudor  translation 
in  the  library  of  Mr.  A.  T.  Porter.  He  acquired 
it  in  1897  from  the  debris  of  an  old  library  be- 
lieved to  come  from  the  neighborhood  of  Win- 
chester. The  copy,  unfortunately,  is  not  perfect 
— wanting  three  leaves — but,  otherwise,  it  is  in 
good  condition.  The  collation  is  A-U.  4.  It 
may  be  described  as  follows:  A.  i.  [?  blank] 
wanting.  A.  ii  [Title]  wanting.  A.  iii.  Dedica- 
tion '  To  the  Right  Honourable  Henry  Wriothes- 
ley,  Earle  of  Southampton,  and  Baron  of  Titch- 
field,  W.  B.  wisheth  continuance  of  health,  with 
prosperous  estate  and  felicitie.'  The  Dedication 
continues  on  the  verso,  and  is  signed  'Your 
Honours  in  all  dutie:  W.  B.'  A.  iv  "To  the 
Curteous  Reader.'  An  address.  Signed  'Your 
friend,  W.B.'  B.  i  The  text.  U.  iv  is  wanting, 
aud  no  doubt  is  the  only  leaf  wanting  at  the 
end. 

"The  book  adds  another  to  the  list  of  those 
dedicated  to  Henry  Wriothesley,  3rd  Earl  of 
Southampton  (1573-1624).  Mr.  Sidney  Lee,  in 
his  article  on  Wriothesley,  in  the  "  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography,"  gives  the  names  of  several, 
but  does  not  mention  this  one.  Wriothesley  gave 
a  collection  of  books  to  St.  John's  College,  Cam- 
bridge. Is  it  possible  there  may  be  a  copy  of  the 
Clitophon  and  Leucippe  amongst  them  ?  " 
32 


482  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

The  suggestion  that  the  older  translation  may 
be  in  the  St.  John's  College  Library  is  not  con- 
firmed by  Cowie's  "  Catalogue,"  nor  is  there  a 
copy  in  the  library  at  Britwell. 


To  this  I  may  add,  from  an  examination  of 
the  volume  (August  20,  1910),  that  the  text  on 
B  i  recto  begins:  "The  first  Booke  of  Achilles 
Statius,  of  the  loue  of  Clitiphon  and  Leucippe  " ; 
that  the  running  title  is:  "A  most  pleasant  His- 
toric of  Clitiphon  and  Leucippe";  and  that  the 
text  ends  on  U  3  verso  with  the  words:  "And 
as  shee  was  a  virgin  when  he  tooke  her  away: 
so  he  suffered  her  to  continue  as  before  he 
had  promised:  but  hee  himself e  in  handling 

[catchword]  many  " 

The  story  is  thus  brought  within  a  paragraph  of 
its  close;  so  that,  as  Mr.  Peddie  says,  not  more 
than  one  leaf  can  there  be  wanting. 

The  Librarian  of  St.  John's  College,  as  I  am 
informed  by  Mr.  Porter,  reports,  after  a  search, 
that  no  copy  of  this  volume  exists  in  the  College 
Library. 


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484  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES   IN 

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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  485 

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BOCCACCIO,  GIOVANNI.     Opere  Volgari  di  Gio- 
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34-38  (October,  1906). 


486  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

BRUNET,  JACQUES  CHARLES.  Manuel  du  Li- 
braire  et  de  1'Amateur  de  Livres.  5*  ed. 
augmentee.  Paris,  1860-65.  6  vols.  in 
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BRUNHUBER,  K.  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  "Arcadia" 
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BURTON,  WM.     See  ACHILLES  TATIUS. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Hymni  et  Epigrammata.  Ed. 
Wilamowitz-Moellendorff.  Berolini,  1882. 

CALLISTRATUS.     See  PHILOSTRATUS. 

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(To  be  completed  in)  14  vols.  New 
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CHASSANG,  A.  Histoire  du  Roman  et  de  ses 
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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  487 

des  literarischen  Vereins  in  Stuttgart,  Vol. 
112,  p.  25  ff. 

Clitophon  and  Leucippe.     See  ACHILLES  TATIUS. 

COLONNA,  FRANCESCO.  See  Hypnerotomachia 
Poliphili. 

CONSTANTINUS  MANASSES.  Text  not  in  Scrip- 
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COURIER,  PAUL  Louis.  Oeuvres  Completes. 
Bruxelles,  1833.  (Lettre  a  M.  Renouard, 
p.  8.  Facsimile  of  the  blot  in  the  MS.  of 
Longus,  opposite  p.  8.) 

CROISET,  ALFRED  and  MAURICE.  Histoire  de  la 
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D  &  C  —  Daphnis  and  Chloe. 

Daphnis  and  Chloe.     See  LONGUS. 

DAY.     See  LONGUS. 

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sokratiker.  Griechisch  und  Deutsch.  2te 


488  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

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DOBELL,  BERTRAM.  New  Light  on  Sidney's 
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DOLCE,  LODOVICO.     See  ACHILLES  TATIUS. 

DUNLOP,  JOHN  COLIN.  History  of  Prose  Fic- 
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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  489 

terialien  zur  Kunde  des  dlteren  englischen 
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FOERSTER,  RICHARD.    Lucian  in  der  Renaissance. 

Kiel,  1886. 

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FOURNIVAL,  RICHARD  DE.  Le  Bestiaire  d' Amour. 
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FRANCIA,  LETTERIO  DI.  Alcune  Novelle  del  De- 
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Vol.  44,  p.  1-103.  Torino,  1904. 

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Geschichte  der  Steinschneidekunst  im 
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men."] 

Beschreibung  der  Geschnittenen  Steine  im 
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Galerie  de  Florence,  La.  Tableaux,  Statues, 
Bas-Reliefs,  et  Camees  de  la  Galerie  de 
Florence  et  du  Palais  Pitti,  dessines  par 
Wicar,  Peintre,  et  graves  sous  la  direction 
de  C.  L.  Masquelier  .  .  .  avec  les  explica- 
tions par  Mongez.  Paris,  1819. 

GASSMEYER,  GEORG  MAX.  Samuel  Richardson's 
"  Pamela."  Ihre  Quellen  und  ihr  Einfluss 
auf  die  englische  Litteratur.  Leipzig- 
Reudnitz,  1890. 


49°  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Gesta  Romanorum,  [herausgegeben]  von  Her- 
mann Oesterley.  Berlin,  1872. 

GLOVER,  TERROT  REAVELEY.  Studies  in  Virgil. 
London,  1904. 

GOLDSMITH,  OLIVER.     The  Story  of  Alcander  and 

Septimius.     In  The  Bee,  No.  I   (1759). 
(The  Miscellaneous  Works  of  Oliver  Gold- 
smith.   4  vols.     London,  1812.     Vol.  IV, 
p.  150  ff.) 

GRASSE,  JEAN  GEORGE  THEODORE.  Tresor  de 
Livres  Rares  et  Precieux,  ou  Nouveau 
Dictionnaire  Bibliographique.  8  vols. 
Dresde,  1859-1869. 

Greek  Romances,  The,  of  Heliodorus,  Longus, 
and  Achilles  Tatius  .  .  .  translated  .  .  . 
by  the  Rev.  Rowland  Smith.  .  .  .  Lon- 
don, 1893.  (Bohn's  Classical  Library.) 

GREENE,  ROBERT.  Works.  Ed.  A.  B.  Grosart. 
15  vols.  [London.]  1881-86.  (The 
Huth  Library.) 

GRENFELL,  BERNARD  P. ;  HUNT,  A.  S. ;  and  HO- 
GARTH, D.  G.  Fayum  Towns  and  their 
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ation Fund;  Graeco-Roman  Branch.) 

GRIMM,  WILHELM.  Athis  und  Prophilias.  In 
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Athis  und  Prophilias.  Weitere  Bruchstiicke. 
In  "Kleinere  Schriften,"  III.  337-345. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE  FICTION  49! 

In    Abhandlungen    der    Akademie,    etc., 
1852,  1-16. 

Die  Sage  von  Athis  und  Prophilias.  In 
"Kleinere  Schriften,"  III.  346-366.  In 
Zeitschrift  fur  deutsches  Alterthum,  XII 
(1865),  185-203. 

GROBER,  GUSTAV  (ed.  and  author).  Grundriss 
der  Romanischen  Philologie.  Strassburg, 
1902.  (On  "Athis  et  Prophilias,"  II1. 
580,  588.) 

GUILLAUME  LE  CLERC.  Le  Bestiairc.  Ed.  Dr. 
Robert  Reinsch.  Leipzig,  1890. 

Le  Bestiaire  Divin.    Ed.  C.  Hippeau.    Caen, 

1852. 

HAZLITT,  WM.  CAREW.  Handbook  to  the  popu- 
lar poetic  and  dramatic  literature  of  Great 
Britain,  from  the  invention  of  printing  to 
the  Restoration.  London,  1867. 

Collections  and  Notes.  [First  series  of  bibli- 
ographical collections  continuing  the 
Handbook.]  1876. 

Second  Series  of  bibliographical  collections 
and  notes  on  early  English  literature. 
(1474-1700.)  1882. 

Third  and  final  Series  ,  1887;  Supplement, 
1889;  Supplement,  1892. 

General  Index  to  Hazlitt's  Handbook  and  his 
Bibliographical    Collections    (1867-1889) 
by  G.  J.  Gray.     1893.     [Does  not  cover 
Supplement  of  1892.] 
Hel.  =  HELIODORUS. 

HELBIG,  WOLFGANG.  Untersuchungen  iiber  die 
Campanische  Wandmalerei.  Leipzig, 
l873-  [Cited  as  "Untersuchungen."] 


492  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Wandgemalde  der  vom  Vesuv  verschiitteten 
Stadte  Campaniens.  Leipzig,  1868. 
[Cited  as  "  Campanische  Wandgemalde."] 
HELIODORUS.  yEthiopica,  or  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea.  Greek  text  in  Scriptores 
Erotici,  q.  v. 

L'Histoire  Aethiopique  de  Heliodorus,  con- 
tenant  dix  livres,  traitant  des  loyales  & 
pudiques  amours  de  Theagenes  Thessalien, 
&  Chariclea  Aethiopienne.  Traduite  de 
Grec  en  Frangois  [by  Jacques  Amyot]. 

...  A  Paris M.  D.  LIX.   (Fol.)    [Not 

the  first  edition.     See  p.  237  ante.] 

An  /Ethiopian  Historic.  Written  in  Greeke 
by  Heliodorus,  no  lesse  wittie  then  pleas- 
aunt.  Englished  by  Thomas  Underdowne 
and  newly  corrected  and  augmented  with 
divers  and  sundry  new  additions  by  the 
said  Authour  .  .  .  1587.  [The  second  or 
possibly  the  third  edition.  See  ante,  p. 
238.]  Reprinted  in  Tudor  Translations, 
Vol.  V.  London,  1895  (David  Nutt). 
with  an  Introduction  by  Charles  Whibley. 
HERODOTUS.  Historiarum  Libri  IX.  Edidit  H. 
R.  Dietsch.  Editio  altera.  Curavit  H. 
Kallenberg.  2  vols.  Lipsiae,  1885 
(Teubner). 

Histoire  Litteraire  de  la  France.  Ouvrage  com- 
mence par  des  religieux  Benedictins  de  la 
Congregation  de  Saint  Maur,  et  continue 
par  les  membres  de  I'Academie  Royale 
des  Inscriptions  et  Belles-Lettres.  Paris, 
1733-1898.  Vol.  I-XXXII  (Suite  du 
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ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  493 

HOMER.  Carmina,  curante  Guilielmo  Dindorfio. 
Editio  quarta  correction  2  vols.  Lip- 
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HORACE.  Q.  Horati  Flacci  Opera.  Recognovit 
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(Scriptorum  Classic  or  um  Bibliotheca 
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HOWARD,  WILLIAM  GUILD.  Ut  Pictura  Poesis. 
In  Publications  of  the  Modern  Language 
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HOWELL,  THOMAS.  Deuises.  In  Howell's 
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HUGUES  DE  SAINT  VICTOR.  De  Bestiis  et  Aliis 
Rebus.  In  Vol.  177  of  Opera  Omnia.  3 
vols.  Parisiis,  1879-80.  In  Migne,  Pa- 
ir ologiae  Scries  Latino,  Vols.  175-177. 

Hypnerotomachia  Poliphili.  The  Dream  of 
Poliphilus;  facsimiles  of  ...  woodcuts 
in  the  Hypnerotomachia  Poliphili,  Venice, 
1499,  wu"n  •  •  •  descriptions  by  J.  W. 
Appell.  London,  1889. 

IAMBLICHUS.  Babylonica.  See  Scriptores  Ero- 
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JACOBS,  FRIEDRICH.    "  Einleitung  "  to  Zehn  Biicher 

Aethiopischer     Geschichten,     aus     dem 

Griechischen     iibersetzt     von     Friedrich 

Jacobs.     3  vols.  in  i.     Stuttgart,  1837. 

"Prolegomena"   to   his   edition    of   Achilles 

Tatius.     See  Achilles  Tatius. 
"  Vorrede  "  to  Longus  Hirtengeschichten  von 
Daphnis    und    Chloe    in    vier    Biichern. 


494  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

Uebersetzt  von  Friedrich  Jacobs.     Stutt- 
gart, 1832. 

JACOBS,  JOSEPH,  ed.  See  LONGUS.  Daphnis  and 
Chloe.  ...  By  Angell  Daye. 

JAHN,  OTTO.  Die  Entfiihrung  der  Europa  auf 
antiken  Kunstwerken.  Wien,  1870.  In 
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Ueber  ein  Marmorrelief  der  Glyptothek  in 
Miinchen.  Leipzig,  1854.  In  Berichte 
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JUSSERAND,  J.  J.  The  English  Novel  in  the 
Time  of  Shakespeare.  Translated  from 
the  French  by  Elizabeth  Lee.  Revised 
and  enlarged  by  the  Author.  London, 
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KERLIN,  ROBERT  T.  Scott's  "  Ivanhoe  "  and  Sid- 
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KOEPPEL,  EMIL.  Studien  zur  Geschichte  der 
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KOERTING,  H.  K.  O.  Geschichte  des  Fran- 
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LAFONTAINE,  JEAN  DE.  Oeuvres.  Ed.  Henri 
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LANDAU,  D&  MARCUS.     Die  Quellen  des  Deka- 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  495 

meron.    Zweite  sehr  vermehrte  und  ver- 
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LANG,  ANDREW.     See  THEOCRITUS. 

LAUCHERT,  FRIEDRICH.  Geschichte  des  Physio- 
logus.  Strasburg,  1889.  [Contains  text 
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LEE,  A.  COLLING  WOOD.  The  Decameron:  its 
Sources  and  Analogues.  London,  1909. 

LEE,  SIDNEY.  A  Life  of  William  Shakespeare. 
New  and  revised  edition.  New  York, 
1909. 

LENGLET  DU  FRESNOY,  NICOLAS.  De  1'Usage 
des  Romans.  Avec  une  Bibliotheque  des 
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dam, 1734. 

LIESE,  DR.  Der  altfranzosische  Roman  "Athis  et 
Prophilias "  verglichen  mit  einer  Erzah- 
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LODGE,  THOMAS.  Complete  Works.  Now  first 
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LONGINUS.  On  the  Sublime.  The  Greek  Text 
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LONGUS.     Daphnis  and   Chloe.     Greek   text  in 

Scriptores  Erotici,  q.  v. 
Daphnis  and  Chloe.  Excellently  describing 
the  weight  of  affection,  the  simplicitie  of 
love,  the  purport  of  honest  meaning,  the 
resolution  of  men,  and  disposition  of  Fate, 
finished  in  a  Pastorall,  and  interlaced  with 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


the  praises  of  a  most  peerlesse  Princesse, 
wonderfull  in  Maiestie,  and  rare  in  per- 
fection, celebrated  within  the  same  Pas- 
torall,  and  therefore  termed  by  the  name 
of  The  Shepheards  Holidaie.  By  Angell 
Daye.  Altior  fortuna  virtus.  At  London, 
printed  by  Robert  Waldegraue,  and  are  to 
be  sold  at  his  shop  in  Paules  Church- 
yard at  the  signe  of  the  Crane.  1587. 

The  Elizabethan  version,  from  Amyot's 
translation,  by  Angel  Day.  Reprinted 
from  the  unique  original  and  edited  by 
Joseph  Jacobs  [with  introduction].  (The 
Tudor  Library.)  London,  1890  (Nutt). 
Gli  Amori  Pastorali  di  Dafni  e  Cloe  di 
Longo  Sofista,  tradotti  in  Italiano  dal 
Commendator  Annibal  Caro,  col  Suppli- 
mento  [viz.  Courier's  fragment]  tradotto 
da  Sebastiano  Ciampi  e  da  Alessandro 
Verri.  Milano  .  .  .  Classici  Italiani  .  .  . 
1812. 

Daphnis  et  Chloe.  Traduction  d'Amyot.  .  .  . 
Preface  par  Alexandre  Dumas  Fils.  Lon- 
dres.  Louys  Glady,  fiditeur.  1878. 
"  Reproduction  exacte  et  fidele  de  1'edition 
originale  de  1559."  (Avis  de  1'fiditeur, 
p.  6.) 

LUCIAN.  Luciani  Samosatensis  Opera.  Edidit 
Guilielmus  Dindorf.  3  vols.  Lipsiae, 
1858.  (Tauchnitz.) 

LYLY,  JOHN.  Complete  Works.  Edited  by  R. 
Warwick  Bond.  3  vols.  Oxford,  1902. 

MAFFEI,  SCIPIONE.     Canzonetta,  "  Quel  tuo  caro 


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soggiorno."  In  Parnaso  Italiano  ,  vol. 
52,  p.  19. 

MAHAFFY,  J.  P.  Greek  Life  and  Thought  from 
the  Death  of  Alexander  to  the  Roman 
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don, 1896.  (2d  ed.) 

MARGUERITE  DE  NAVARRE.  L'Heptameron. 
Paris,  n.  d.  (Gamier  Freres). 

MARINO,  GIOVANNI  BATTISTA.  L'Adone. 
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MENENDEZ  Y  PELAYO,  MARCELINO.  Origenes  de 
laNovela.  Madrid,  1905.  Tomol.  (Nueva 
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MIGNE,  JACQUES  PAUL,  ABBE.  (Ed.)  Patro- 
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MOODY,  WILLIAM  VAUGHN.  An  Inquiry  into 
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MOSCHUS.     See  Bucolici  Graeci  and  THEOCRITUS. 

MULLER-CHRIST.     See   CHRIST,  WILHELM. 

Muzio,  GIROLAMO  (Giustinopolitano).  Rime, 
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Vinegia,  MDLI. 

NABER,  S.  A.  Observationes  criticae  in  Helio- 
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NASH,   THOMAS.     Works.     Ed.    from   the    ori- 

33 


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ginal    texts    by    Ronald    B.    McKerrow. 

London,  1904-8.    4  vols.     (Notes  in  Vol. 

IV.)     A  fifth  volume  to  contain  Memoir 

and  Glossarial  Index. 
Complete   Works.     Ed.    A.    B.    Grosart.     6 

vols.       [London]     1883-5.     (The    Huth 

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NICOLAUS  PERGAMENUS   (attributed  to).     Dia- 

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Th.    Grasse:    Die    beiden    altesten    latei- 

nischen     Fabelbiicher     des     Mittelalters. 

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Ninus    and    Semiramis.      Ed.    Ulrich    Wilcken, 

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man."    In    Hermes,    Vol.    XXVIII,    pp. 

161-193.     Berlin,  1893. 
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NORDEN,  EDUARD.     Die  Antike  Kunstprosa  vom 

VI  Jahrundert  vor  Christus  bis  in  die  Zeit 

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OEFTERING,  MICHAEL.     Heliodor  und  seine  Be- 

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OVERBECK,     JOHANNES     ADOLF.     Die     antiken 

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den  Kiinste  bei  den  Griechen.    Leipzig, 
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OVID.  Carmina.  Ed.  Riese.  Leipzig,  1871 
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PARIS,  GASTON.  La  Litterature  Franchise  au 
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Parnaso  Italiano;  ovvero,  Raccolta  de'  poeti 
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PASSOW,  FRANZ  LUDWIG  KARL  FRIEDRICH. 
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PAULY-WISSOWA.  Paulys  Real-Encyclopadie 
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PETRUS  ALPHONSUS.  Disciplina  Clericalis.  In 
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PHILOSTRATUS,  FLAVIUS.  Opera.  Ed.  C.  L. 
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Opera,  Ed.  Westermann.  Paris,  1849 
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PHOTIUS.  Bibliotheca,  or  Myriobiblion.  [The 
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5OO  THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 

genes    and    lamblichus    are    printed    in 
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Physiologus.     See  LAUCHERT. 

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PIPER,  PAUL.  Die  Spielmannsdichtung  (Ktirsch- 
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PLATO.  Opera.  Recognovit.  .  .  .  loannes  Bur- 
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PLINY.  Naturalis  Historia  .  .  .  recognovit  .  .  . 
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PLUTARCH.     Amatorius. 

Quaestionum  Convivalium  Libri  IX. 

Both  in  Vol.  IV  of  Moralia.  Recognovit 
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POETZSCHE,  ERICH.  Samuel  Richardsons  Bele- 
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POLIZIANO,  ANGELO  AMBROGINI.  Le  Stanze, 
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Miscellanea.  In  Omnia  Opera  Angeli  Poli- 
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ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  5OI 

PROPERTIUS.  Sexti  Properti  Carmina.  Recog- 
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REINACH,  SALOMON.  Pierres  Gravees  des  col- 
lections Marlborough  et  d'Orleans,  des  re- 
cueils  d'Eckhel,  Gori,  Levesque  de  Gra- 
velle,  Mariette,  Millin,  Stosch,  reunies  et 
reeditees  avec  un  texte  nouveau.  Paris, 
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RICHARDSON,  SAMUEL.  Works.  Ed.  Leslie 
Stephen.  12  vols.  London,  1883. 

ROHDE,  ERWIN.  Der  Griechische  Roman  und 
seine  Vorlaufer.  Zweite  .  .  .  Auflage. 
Leipzig,  1900. 

SAINTSBURY,  GEORGE.  History  of  Criticism  and 
Literary  Taste  in  Europe.  3  vols.  Edin- 
burgh, 1900-04. 

SALVERTE,  FRANC.OIS  DE.  Le  Roman  dans  la 
Grece  Ancienne.  Paris,  1894. 

SANDYS,  JOHN  EDWIN.  A  History  of  Classical 
Scholarship.  3  vols.  Cambridge,  1903-08. 

STE.  BEUVE,  C.-A.  fitude  sur  Virgile.  Suivie 
d'une  fitude  sur  Quintus  de  Smyrne. 
Paris,  1891. 

SCHWARTZ,  EDUARD.  Fiinf  Vortrage  iiber  den 
griechischen  Roman.  Berlin,  1896. 

SCOTT,  MARY  AUGUSTA.  Elizabethan  Transla- 
tions from  the  Italian;  the  titles  of  such 
works  now  first  collected  and  arranged, 
with  annotations.  In  Publications  of  the 
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502 


THE  GREEK  ROMANCES  IN 


tea.    Vol.  X,  pp.  249-293;  XI,  377-484; 

xm,  42-1 53;  xiv,  465-571- 

Scriptores  Erotici.  Pub.  Didot,  Paris,  1856. 
Greek  texts  and  Latin  translations.  Ed. 
Hirschig,  LeBas,  Lapaume,  and  Bois- 
sonade.  [Contains  Achilles  Tatius;  An- 
tonius  Diogenes;  Apollonius  Tyrius; 
Chariton  Aphrodisiensis ;  Eustathius  Ma- 
krembolites ;  Heliodorus ;  lamblichus ; 
Longus ;  Nicetas  Eugenianus ;  Parthenius ; 
Xenophon  Ephesius.] 

SHAKESPEARE,  WILLIAM.  Works.  Ed.  by  Wil- 
liam Aldis  Wright.  9  vols.  London  and 
New  York,  1894  (Macmillan).  (The 
Cambridge  Shakespeare.) 
Works.  Ed.  with  introduction  and  notes  by 
C.  H.  Herford.  10  vols.  London  and 
New  York,  1899  (Macmillan).  (Evers- 
ley  Edition.) 

SIDNEY,  SIR  PHILIP.    An  Apologie  for  Poetrie. 

Ed.  J.  Churton  Collins.    Oxford,  1907. 
The   Countess   of   Pembrokes   Arcadia:   the 
"  Clifford  "  and  the  "Ashburnham  "  MSS. 
(See  p.  345  and  Appendix  B.) 
The  Countesse  of  Pembrokes  Arcadia.     Ori- 
ginal quarto  of  1590  in  photographic  fac- 
simile.    Ed.  by  H.  Oskar  Sommer.     Lon- 
don, 1891. 

The  Countess  of  Pembrokes  Arcadia  .  .  .  now 
the  sixt  time  published,  with  some  new 
additions ;  also  a  supplement  of  a  defect  in 
the  third  part  ...  by  Sir  W.  Alexander, 
and  a  sixth  booke  ...  by  Richard  Beling. 
[Folio.]  London,  1627. 


ELIZABETHAN   PROSE   FICTION  503 

The  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Arcadia.  With 
the  additions  of  Sir  William  Alexander 
and  Richard  Beling,  .  .  .  and  an  Intro- 
duction by  Ernest  A.  Baker.  London  and 
New  York  [n.  d.  Introduction  dated 
1907]. 

SPENSER,  EDMUND.  The  Complete  Works.  Ed. 
...  by  the  Rev.  Alexander  B.  Grosart,  in 
association  with  others.  10  vols.  Printed 
for  the  Spenser  Society  [London].  1882- 
84. 

Stationers'  Register.  A  Transcript  of  the  Regis- 
ters of  the  Company  of  Stationers  of 
London,  1554-1640  A.  D.  Ed.  by  Edward 
Arber.  5  vols.  London,  1875-94. 

STRAVOSKIADIS,  ANDREAS.  Achilles  Tatius  ein 
Nachahmer  des  Plato,  Aristoteles,  Plu- 
tarch und  Aelian.  Athen,  1889. 

SUSEMIHL,  FRANZ.  Geschichte  der  griechischen 
Litteratur  in  der  Alexandrinerzeit.  2 
vols.  Leipzig,  1891-92. 

T.  &  C.  =  Theagenes  and  Chariclea. 

TASSO,  TORQUATO.  Opere,  Ed.  Gio.  Rosini.  33 
vols.  Pisa,  1821-32. 

TENNYSON,  ALFRED,  Lord.  The  Works  of  Al- 
fred, Lord  Tennyson,  ed.  by  Hallam,  Lord 
Tennyson.  6  vols.  New  York,  1908. 
(Eversley  Edition.) 

THAUN,  PHILIPPE  DE.  Le  Bestiaire.  Ed. 
Emanuel  Walberg.  Lund,  1900. 

Theagenes   and   Chariclea.     See   HELIODORUS. 

THEOCRITUS,  BION  and  MOSCHUS,  rendered  into 
English  Prose  with  an  Introductory 


504  THE   GREEK   ROMANCES   IN 

Essay  by  A.  Lang.  London  and  New 
York,  1892  (Golden  Treasury  Series). 
And  see  Bucolici  Graeci. 

THEODORUS  PRODROMUS.  Text  not  .in  Scrip- 
tores  Erotici  (Didot),  but  in  Erotici  Scrip- 
tores  (Teubner),  q.  v. 

THOMAS  DE  CANTIMPRE  (Thomas  Cantimpra- 
tensis).  De  Proprietatibus  Apum.  Lib. 
II,  cap.  19:  "De  mutua  et  vera  amicitia." 
(Summary  in  W.  Grimm,  Kleinere  Schrif- 
ten,  III.  353-4-) 

TUCHERT,  ALOYS.  Racine  und  Heliodor.  Zwei- 
briicken,  1889. 

U.  —  UNDERDOWNE. 

UNDERDOWNE.     See  HELIODORUS. 

WAGNER,  C.  P.  The  Sources  of  "  El  Cavallero 
Cifar."  In  Revue  Hispanique,  X  (1903), 
p.  4ff ;  pp.  80-82. 

WALDEN,  J.  W.  H.  Stage  Terms  in  Heliodorus's 
Aethiopica.  In  Harvard  Studies  in  Clas- 
sical Philology,  1894.  Vol.  V,  pp.  1-43. 

WARD,  H.  L.  D.  Catalogue  of  Romances  in  the 
Department  of  Manuscripts  in  the  British 
Museum.  London,  1883.  (On"Athiset 
Prophilias",  pp.  173,  929.) 

WARNER,  WILLIAM.  Albions  England.  In 
Chalmers,  English  Poets,  1810,  Vol.  IV, 
pp.  498-658. 

WARREN,  F.  M.  A  History  of  the  Novel 
previous  to  the  I7th  Century.  New  York, 
1895  (Holt). 

WHIBLEY.  See  HELIODORUS,  An  Aethiopian 
Historic. 


ELIZABETHAN    PROSE   FICTION  505 

WICKHOFF,  FRANZ.  Venezianische  Bilder.  In 
Jahrb.  d.  Kgl.  preussischen  Kunstver- 
sammlungen,  1902.  Vol.  23,  pp.  118-123. 

WILSON,  JOHN  DOVER.  Euphues  and  the  Prod- 
igal Son.  In  The  Library,  New  Series, 
X,  337-36i  (October,  1909). 

WOLFF,  SAMUEL  LEE.    Robert  Greene  and  the 
Italian   Renaissance.     In   Englische  Stu- 
dien,  XXXVII,  321-374. 
Scott's  "Ivanhoe"  and  Sidney's  "Arcadia." 
(See  The  Nation,  vol.  92,  pp.  7,  60,  114. 
New  York,  Jan.  5,  Jan.  19,  Feb.  2,  1911.) 
A   Source  of   "  Euphues.   The  Anatomy  of 
Wyt."     In  Modern  Philology,  VII,  577- 
585   (April,  1910). 

WYTTENBACH,  DANIEL  ALBERT.  Bibliotheca 
Critica.  3  vols.  Amstelodami,  1779- 
1808.  (In  12  Partes,  at  first  issued  sepa- 
rately. Pars  II,  containing  at  p.  57-8  the 
remarks  quoted  ante,  p.  157,  is  dated 

I777-) 
XENOPHON  OF  EPHESUS.     See  Scriptores  Erotici. 


INDEX. 


Achilles  Tatius,  I,  7,  9;  Cli- 
tophon  and  Leucippe,  edi- 
tions and  translations,  9, 
245-247,  375,  477-482;  An- 
alysis, 43-110 

Plot  controlled  by  Fortune, 
117-119,  126,  137;  hieratic 
or  providential  activity  at 
minimum,  117;  Virtu  vs. 
Fortuna,  120;  absence  of 
pastoral,  122 

Character  distorted,  117- 
119;  mendacious,  142;  dis- 
placed by  rhetorical  display 
of  sentimentality,  144-146;  of 
Clitophon,  146-149;  low  char- 
acters from  Comedy:  Satyrus, 
Clio,  Sosthenes,  Thersander, 
149-150;  Leucippe,  152-153; 
Melitta,  134-157.  Disregards 
moral  connections  between 
character,  action,  and  conse- 
quences, 138;  love  sensual, 
128;  scarcely  dignified  by  a 
superficial  chastity,  128-130; 
but  chivalrous  in  episodic 
novella  of  Callisthenes  and 
Calligone,  132;  artes  amandi, 
136.  Humor:  high  comedy, 
154-155;  affinity  to  realism, 
157,  1 60;  comic  genre- 
scenes,  161;  generally,  in- 
herent in  situation,  162 

Setting,  historical,  vague, 
163;  geographical,  non-essen- 
tial, generally  lacks  local  color, 
and  employed  to  instruct  or 
entertain,  but  occasionally 
produces  real  background, 
164,  166,  167;  descriptive,  is 
rhetorical  show-piece,  169- 
171;  Europa,  painting  of, 
171-173;  irrelevancy  of  word- 
paintings,  173-176;  excep- 
tions have  broader  range  of 


imagery    and    form    part    of 
narrative,  174-175 

Theatrical  conception  and 
terminology,  183  n.  55.  Lack 
of  spirituality,  190-191.  Spec- 
tacular heroics,  190-191 

Narrative  structure,  199- 
210:  narration  by  hero,  199; 
who  inconsistently  assumes 
omniscience,  199-200;  dra- 
matic choice  of  persons  to 
convey  information,  200; 
time-arrangement  chronolog- 
ical, free  from  epic  conven- 
tions, and  detailed,  200-201; 
suspense,  201,  202;  irrele- 
vancies,  201-210:  of  Plot, 
202-206;  of  Characterization, 
206;  of  Setting,  206-207;  of 
Science  and  Pseudo-Science, 
207-210 

Paradox,  211-212.  Irony, 
216-217.  Antithesis:  Bridal 
and  Burial,  218;  Land  and 
Water,  219;  Fire  and  Water, 
218  n.  79;  Living  Tomb,  220; 
artificial  and  largely  verbal, 
221-235:  Rivalry,  227-228; 
Conflicting  Emotions,  228- 
229;  Balance,  229-231;  Home- 
ophony,  231-233 

Style  highly  artificial,  222 
n.  81;  artificially  simple,  232 
n.  86 

Adams,    Joseph    Quincy,    Jr., 
442  n.  66 

Addison,  Joseph,  170  n.  39,  173 
n.  44 

Aelian,   i,   170,  357  n.  35,  380 
n.  21,  384  n.  28,  415 

Albani,  172  n.  45 

Alexandrianism,  2-4,  7 

Alliteration,    5,    231-233,    377- 
379,  380-381 


506 


INDEX 


507 


Amadis  of  Gaul,  311  n.  3,  318- 
319,  344 

Amorous  Woman,  133;  Arsace, 
Demaeneta,  Melitta,  154; 
Arsace,  311;  Arsace,  De- 
maeneta, Andromana,  313- 
314,  348-349,  473-474;  Me- 
litta, Gynecia,  314;  Arsace, 
Demaeneta,  etc.,  412 

Amyot,  Jacques,  translation 
of  sEthiopica,  8,  237-238. 
Translation  of  Daphnis  and 
Chloe,  8,  237,  239;  compared 
with  Day's  version,  240-245, 
465-469;  compared  with  ori- 
ginal, and  with  Day,  Pan- 
dosto,  and  Winter's  Tale 
(Table),  448-450 

Anacreon,  172 

Anaxagoras,  4  n.  3 

Animal  Mother  suckles  human 
infant;  human  mother  suckles 
animal  infant:  (Longus,  Boc- 
caccio, Greene)  371-372; 
(Longus,  Greene)  448 
(Table),  454 

Anthology,  Greek,   143  n.  25 

Antiochus  and  Stratonice,   416 

Antithesis,  5,  7,  140-141,  144- 
146,  153,  156,  212,  242,  245, 
3S7-366,  398-399,  437-438, 
450  n.  68,  457,  460 

Banquet  and  Battle,  212, 
213,  360,  366  additional 
note.  Captor  servant  to 
captive,  212,  214,  361-362. 
Native  land  more  dangerous 
than  foreign  lands,  213,  415, 
444.  Confession  of  murder 
of  person  still  alive,  217,  317, 
319,  320,  406,  419.  Bridal 
and  Burial,  217-218,  221,  250 
n.  3.  Land  and  Water,  218- 
220,  221,  359.  Water  and 
Fire,  218  n.  79,  359-360,  398- 
399.  Living  Tomb,  220,  361 
Artificial  and  largely  ver- 
bal, 221-235:  Antithesis 
proper,  distinguished  from 
oxymoron,  221-222;  examples, 
222-229 ;  Rivalry,  227-228, 
377;  Conflicting  Emotions, 


228-229,  256  n.  3,  335,  363, 
405;  Multiple  Antithesis,  229; 
Balance  in  syntax,  222,  229- 

231,  380-381;    Homeophony, 
231-233 

Once  genuine  expression  of 
philosophic  dualism,  in  Greek 
Romances  mere  artifice,  234 

Virtti  and  Fortuna,  120  & 
n.  5,  151,  326-328,  377,  380 
&  n.  30,  436  n.  60 

Dead  men  possessors  of 
rich  spoil  (Heliodorus,  Sid- 
ney), 358-359 

In  Greene,  376-377:  Wit 
and  Will,  etc.,  377;  brought 
about  by  Fortune,  380-381, 
398-399;  brought  about  by 
Love  and  Fortune,  437-438 
Antonius  Diosenes,  Marvels 
Beyond  Thule.  or  Dinias  and 
Dercyllis,  8,  164  n.  36 

'A<f>eAcia,     232   n.    86 

Apollonius  of  Tyre,  to  n.  i  a 

Apollonius  Rhodiug,  3 

Aristotle,  i,  5  n.  4,  7,  143,  144, 
1 88 

Ars  Amatoria,  136 

Articulation  of  Plot,  in  Lyly's 
Euphues,  same  as  in  Tito  and 
Gisippo  and  Athis  et  Pro- 
philias,  and  (probably)  as  in 
lost  Greek  Romance,  248- 
251.  255-256,  258-261,  458, 
461 

Assonance,  231-233,  378-379 

Athis  et  Prophilias,  248,  250- 
253,  255-256,  258-261 

Atkins,  J.  W.  H.,  442  n.  60 

Background,  see  Setting 
Balance,  Syntactical,  222,  229- 

232,  377-379,  380-381 
Balzac,   Honore   de,    157 
Banished  Nobleman  heads  Out- 
laws, 3x0 

Banquet  and  Battle,  see  An- 
tithesis 

Batrachomyomachia,  172 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  344 
Belleforest,  246 
Bestiaries,  208,  209  n.  75 


5o8 


INDEX 


Bigot,  Charles,  171  n.  41 

Boccaccio,  in  contact  with 
Greek  fiction,  248,  370-375. 
De  Casibus  Virorum  Illus- 
trium,  386  n.  30 

Tito  and  Gisippo  (Dec.  X. 
8),  a  source  of  Lyly's  £«- 
phues,  248-250,  255;  derived 
from  Athis  et  Prophilias, 
248,  250-251,  255,  258-261 
(Table),  or  directly  from  lost 
Greek  Romance,  248,  250, 
252-253,  256;  may  have  sug- 
gested portions  of  Sidney's 
Arcadia,  364  n.  37 

All  the  novelle  that  Greene 
takes  from,  probably  from 
lost  Greek  Romances,  370-375 : 
Perimedes,  first  tale,  from 
Decam.  II.  6,  370-372,  410; 
Perimedes,  second  tale,  from 
Decam.  V.  2,  372-373;  Tul- 
lies  Love,  episode  of  Fabius 
and  Terentia,  from  Decam. 
V.  i,  373-374 

Employs  natural  causation 
in  Decam.  II.  6  to  bring 
about  peripeteia,  388 

And  see  Animal  Mother; 
Articulation  of  Plot;  Fortune; 
Hunt;  Straying  Animal 

Boileau,  127  n.  9 

Boissier,  Gaston,   170  n.  40 

Boissonade,  edd.  prince,  of 
Constantinus  Manasses  and 
Nicetas  Eugenianus,  10 

Bouhours,  Dominique,  218  n. 
79,  220  n.  80,  224  n.  82 

Bridal  and  Burial,  see  An- 
tithesis 

Brooke,  Lord,  344 

Brunei,  J.  C,  237  n.  3 

Brunhuber,  K.,  308,  309  n.  2, 
310,  311  n.  3,  313  n.  4,  314 
n.  5,  316  n.  6,  318  n.  7,  328 
n-  13.  330  n.  14,  334  n.  17, 
344  nn.  24,  25,  &  26,  413 

Burton,  William,  translation  of 
Achilles  Tatius,  9,  246 
347,  477-482 

Callimachus,  3 


Callistratus,  170 

Cambridge  History  of  English 
Literature,  343  n.  22,  442  n. 
66 

Cantimpre,  Thomas  de,  258- 
261 

Caro,  Annibal,  240 

Causation,  4,  in.  Longus 
discards  Fortune  in  favor 
of,  124-126.  In  Greene, 
wronged  by  false  attribu- 
tions to  Fortune,  381  and  n. 
23;  discarded  in  favor  of 
Fortune,  388-389;  weak  sense 
of,  458.  In  Boccaccio,  388. 
Shakespeare  discards  For- 
tune in  favor  of,  453-456 

Cavalier o  Cifar,  El,  258-261 

Character,  in  Greek  Romances, 
degenerates  into  sentimental- 
ity, 6;  causation  and,  not  the 
only  motive  forces  of  plot, 
in;  less  prominent  than 
Plot,  137;  138-157:  created 
despite  romancer's  want  of 
interest,  138;  timorous  or  de- 
ceitful, because  always  yield- 
ing to  circumstances  (For- 
tune) or  squirming  out  of 
them,  138-140;  distorted  by 
love  of  paradox,  141;  menda- 
cious, 141-143;  displaced  by 
rhetorical  display  of  senti- 
mentality, 143-146;  Clitophon, 
146-149;  from  Comedy, — Sa- 
tyrus,  Clio,  Sosthenes,  Ther- 
sander,  149-150;  Theagenes, 
150-151;  Chariclea,  151-152; 
Leucippe,  152-153;  Melitta, 
154-157:  Greeks  generally 
moderate,  barbarians  passion- 
ate, 153  n.  30;  characteriza- 
tion at  its  best  in  Melitta, 
i57'»  suggested  by  descriptive 
Pathos,  179;  in  general,  to- 
gether with  Plot  and  Setting, 
tends  to  degenerate  into  mere 
spectacle,  191;  general  dearth 
of,  457 

In  Achilles  Tatius,  dis- 
torted by  control  of  Fortune, 
117-118;  disconnected  from 


INDEX 


509 


consequences  of  its  moral 
choices,  138;  mendacious, 
142;  displaced  by  rhetorical 
display  of  sentimentality,  143- 
146;  Clitophon,  146-149;  from 
Comedy, — Satyrus,  Clio,  Sos- 
thenes,  Thersander,  149-150; 
Leucippe,  152-133;  Melitta, 
154-157;  irrelevancies  of 
characterization,  206 

In  Heliodorus,  timorous  or 
deceitful,  139-140;  sometimes 
falsely  motived,  140-141 ; 
sometimes  displaced  by  pa- 
thos, 144;  Theagenes,  150- 
151;  Chariclea,  151-152 

In  Longus,  cowardly,  139; 
mendacious,  141 ;  sometimes 
displaced  by  rhetorical  dis- 
play of  sentimentality,  144 

In  novella,   not   profound, 

370 

In  Lyly's  Euphues,  set  forth 
as  in  Tito  and  Gisippo  and 
Athis  et  Prophilias,  and 
(probably)  as  in  lost  Greek 
Romance,  249,  251,  258-261 
In  Sidney,  (q.  v.),  314, 
328-330 

In  Greene,  often  shallow 
and  unmotived,  370,  429- 
432;  rendered  inconsistent 
by  subjection  to  Fortune, 
381;  set  forth  by  means  of 
antithesis,  376-377;  drawing 
of,  not  within  Greene's 
powers,  407;  weak  sense  of, 
458;  dearth  of,  as  in  Greek 
Romance,  457 

Love  transforms,  132,  373- 
374,  438  n.  65 

In  English  novel,  finds 
structural  frame  prepared,  in 
part,  by  Sidney's  Arcadia, 
463 

Charadrius,     208-209 

Chariton  of  Aphrodisias,  Chae- 
reas  and  Callirrhoe,  8,  163 
n.  35 

Chastity,  Fortune  and,  120  n. 
5;  dignifies  sensual  love,  127. 
In  Achilles  Tatius,  superficial, 


117,  128-130.  In  Heliodorus, 
genuine,  127-128.  In  Lon- 
gus, aim  not  to  preserve  but 
to  lose,  130.  In  Greene,  a 
phase  of  philogyny,  411. 
Preserved  till  entry  into 
kingdom,  end  of  voyage,  or 
fulfilment  of  oracle,  127, 
309,  424,  432,  445.  Vindi- 
cated by  trial  or  ordeal,  128, 
175.  308,  418-423,  426-428, 
446 

Christ,  Wilhelm,  8,  133  n.  16, 
198  n.  66 

Chrysocephalus.  Macarius, 
compiler  of  'Potiiavia,  10 

Cicero,  256  n.  3,  386  n.  30 

Cocchi,  ed.  princ.  of  Xenophon 
of  Ephesus,  8 

Coccio,  Angelo,  translation  of 
Achilles  Tatius,  9,  246 

Code  of  Love,  136 

Collin,  Raphael,  131  n.  14,  168 
n.  37 

Colonna,  Francesco,  Hypnero- 
tomachia  Poliphili,  172  n.  45, 
334  n.  17 

Comedy,  "  New "  Attic  and 
Roman,  low  characters  from, 
in  Achilles  Tatius,  149-150. 
Of  the  Renaissance,  149. 
Achilles  Tatius's  affinity  to, 
155,  157,  160,  183  n.  55, 
200.  Realism  and,  157-158 

Complication,  195,  198-199, 
349-350 

Comingeois,  B.,  translation  of 
Achilles  Tatius,  9,  246 

Commelin,  Jerome,  ed.  princ. 
of  Achilles  Tatius,  9,  246 

Confession  of  crime  not  com- 
mitted, 217,  317,  319-320, 
406,  419 

Conflicting  Emotions,  real,  155; 
device  to  produce  antithesis, 
6,  145,  228-229,  256  n.  3, 
335,  363,  377.  405 

Constantinus  Manasses,  Arts- 
tander  and  Callithea,  10 

Coordinate  sentence-structure, 
232  n.  86 

Cosmopolitanism,  z,   153  n.  30 


INDEX 


Couat,  Auguste,  3  n.  2 

Courier.  Paul  Louis,  30  n.  6, 
205  n.  72,  241,  465  n.  i 

Croce,  Annibale  della,  trans- 
lation of  Achilles  Tatius,  9, 
246 

Croiset,  A.  and  M.,  8,  124 
n.  8 

Daniele,  Francesco,  240  n.  9 

Dante,   135  n.  20 

Day,  Angel,  paraphrase  of 
Daphnis  and  Chloe,  8.  122 
n.  6,  237;  critical  discussion 
of,  240-243;  375-376,  433- 
434.  447-450  (Table,  448- 
450) ;  a  direct  source  of 
Greene's  Pandosto,  and  prob- 
ably a  direct  source  of 
Winter's  Tale,  452-455;  tex- 
tual notes  on  relation  of,  to 
Amyot's  version,  465-469 

Debat,  6,   133,  205  n.  72,  369 

De  Casibus  Virorum  Illustrium, 
386  n.  30 

Denouement,  brought  about  by 
arrival  of  distant  (hieratic) 
person  as  deus  ex  machina, 
(Heliodorus)  112-113,  n6> 
141  n.  23,  183,  309;  (Greene's 
Menaphon)  427-428;  (Sid- 
ney) 308,  309,  340;  by  Eros  as 
deus  ex  machina,  (Longus) 
121,122.  Paradoxical.  (Helio- 
dorus) 140,  213;  (Greene), 
419.  Theatrical,  (Heliodorus) 
182-183;  (Greene)  417-418. 
Ensemble-scene,  (Helio- 
dorus) 184,  187;  (Sidney) 
3°7.  34o;  (Greene)  417-419. 
Retarded,  (Heliodorus)  198. 
Charge  of  abduction  leads  to, 
(Heliodorus)  213,  (Sidney) 
309.  Ironical,  (Heliodorus) 

215.  Balanced  against  open- 
ing scene,   (Heliodorus)  213, 

216.  Father  condemns  child, 
(Heliodorus,     Sidney)      309, 
329-33°;   (Greene)  392,  426- 
427,  441,  445,  451-452.     Ar- 
ranged by  Providence,  (Heli- 
odorus)    182-183,     (Sidney) 


|  322-323-  Told  in  chrono- 
logical order,  (Sidney)  352. 
Oratorical,  (Sidney)  355, 
(Greene)  418.  Brought  about 
by  Fortune,  387.  A  vindi- 
cation of  chastity;  see  Chas- 
tity. A  trial  scene;  see  Trial- 
scenes.  A  recognition;  see 
Recognition.  A  restoration 
of  children;  see  Restoration. 
Fulfilment  of  an  oracle;  see 
Oracle 

Description,  in  Greek  Romances, 
excess  of,  6,   167-168 

In  Longus,  least  offensive, 
1 68;  pictorial  treatment  of 
incidents,  ibid.;  wide  range 
of  sensuous  imagery,  168- 
169;  moderation,  169;  "rich- 
ness in  simplicity,"  ibid. 
In  Achilles  Tatius,  excess 
of,  169-176:  a  trick  of  rhet- 
oric, 169-170;  pictorial,  170- 
174;  Europa,  painting  of, 
r7 1-173;  irrelevancy,  173- 
176;  his  relevant  exceptions 
have  broader  range  of  im- 
agery and  form  part  of  nar- 
rative, 174-175 

In  Heliodorus,  176-191; 
spectacular,  and  relevant, 
176-177,  181;  "pathetic  op- 
tics," 177-179.  184,  189; 
"  hieratic  epiphany,"  179- 
180,  188-180:  theatrical  con- 
ception and  terminology,  181- 
184,  189;  spectacular  en- 
semble-scenes, 184-189,  307, 
340,  402,  417-422 

In  Sidney,  334-342,  366: 
imitations  of  Achilles  Tatius, 
334-335;  nothing  from  Lon- 
gus, 335;  imprest  and  Em- 
blems not  from  Greek  Ro- 
mance, 335-337;  imitations 
of  Heliodorus,  —  trionfo, 
jewel,  horsemanship,  337- 
338;  "pathetic  optics,"  338- 
342,  esp.  at  the  trial,  a  spec- 
tacular ensemble-scene,  340- 
342 


INDEX 


Greene,  deficient  in  talent 
for,  402-403,  407,  421 

Range     of     sensuous    im- 
agery  in,    168-169,    172-176, 
184,  242,  244,  403.     And  see 
"EK<)>  pao-it ;  Setting 
Dickens,   Charles,    193,    197   n. 

64 

Digression,  6,  166.  175,  176  n. 
48,  203,  350  n.  32 

Dissimulation,  139-143,  311- 
312,  329,  412  &  n.  43,  444 

Dobell,  Bertram,  239  n.  6,  344, 
345 

Dolce,  Lodovico,  translation 
of  Achilles  Tatius,  9,  246 

"  Dolce  stil  nuovo,"   135  n.  20 

Donne,  135  n.  20 

D'Orville,  ed.  princ.  of  Chari- 
ton,  8 

Drama,  Attic,  4.  English,  in- 
fluenced by  Greek  Romance 
through  Elizabethan  fiction, 
463;  see  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher,  Shakespeare.  And 
see  Comedy;  Theatrical  con- 
ception; Theatrical  terminol- 
ogy ;  Tragedy 

Dryden,   230   n.   83 

Dunlop,  John  Colin,  135  n.  19, 
138  n.  21,  187  n.  56,  237 
n.  3 

Dubbio,  6,    133,  205,  369 

Diirer,  Albrecht,  .187  n.  31 

"EK<j>p<i<ri<;    169-170,    171    n.    41, 
177,  232  n.  86,  334,  353,  363, 
366,   393   n.   34,   399-4«3 
Eloquentia,  See  Oratory 
Elworthy,  F.  J.,  209  n.  75 
Elyot,  Sir  Thomas,  258-261 
Emblems,  in  Greek  Romances, 
173    n.   46;   in    Sidney,    335- 
338;    in   Greene,    387   n.    31, 
402  and  n.  37,  403 
Empedocles,  234 
Ensemble-Scenes,     Spectacular, 
See    Spectacular    Ensemble- 
Scenes 

Enveloping  action,  Urban, 
frames  pastoral,  123,  368, 
432-433-  Constituted  by  ad- 


ventures of  author,  to  whom 
hero  tells  his  tale,  199,  379; 
but  not  continued  after 
hero's  narrative,  ibid.  Con- 
stituted by  dubbio  or  dia- 
logue, 369 

Epic,  Heliodorus's  affinity  to, 
116-117,  157,  192-193;  Ital- 
ian romantic,  Saracens  in, 
153  n.  30.  Structure,  con- 
ventions of:  in  medias  res, 
192,  200,  351-352;  and  see 
Narration  by  Participant 

Epideictic,  169,  334 

Epiphany.  Hieratic,  see  Hier- 
atic Epiphany 

Episodes,  6,  198,  202-203,  413; 
Fortune's  control  confined 
to,  in  Heliodorus,  114-115, 
117;  and  in  Sidney,  325. 
Pastoral  as,  in  urban  story, 
123,  368,  432-433-  Callis- 
thenes  and  Calligone,  in 
Achilles  Tatius,  132,  201, 
374.  Cnemon,  in  Heliodorus, 
133,  193,  201,  313,  319-320, 
416  &  n.  48.  In  Longus, 
well  subordinated,  199.  Rele- 
vancy or  irrelevancy  of,  196 
n.  64,  199,  201.  In  Sidney, 
311-314:  the  Captivity,  311- 
312;  the  Paphlagonica,  312- 
313;  Plangus  and  Andro- 
mana,  313-314;  in  the  "Old" 
and  in  the  "  New  "  Arcadia, 
346-349;  obscured  by  involu- 
tion and  complexity  of  nar- 
rative method,  352;  place  of, 
taken  by  oratory,  354.  In 
Greene:  Fabius  and  Teren- 
tia,  in  Tullies  Love,  370, 
374 

Eros,  controls  plot  in  Longus, 
12 1 ;  gives  it  initial  impulse 
by  means  of  natural  causes, 
125;  power  of,  in  Achilles 
Tatius,  displayed  in  the  pic- 
ture of  Europa,  173 

"  Eros-Motiv,"  308,  413-414, 
444 

Ethopoieia,    143-145,    169 
Ethos,   143,  144,   148,  157-158 


INDEX 


Euphuism,  208,  248  n.  i,  256 
n.  3.  354,  367.  37S,  377,  457, 
460 

Europa,  painting  of,  171-173, 
393  n.  34,  399-401,  403 

Eustathius  Makrembolites,  Hys- 
minias  and  Hysmine,  10,  173 
n.  46 

Exposure  of  Child,  in  Helio- 
dorus, in,  113,  410,  425, 
427-428,  444,  446,  45i.  In 
Longus,  123,  447-449,  454. 
In  Greene,  410,  423,  425,  427- 
428,  431  n.  54,  444,  446,  448- 
451.  In  Shakespeare,  448, 
452-455 

Fabliau,  149,  156,  157,  416  n. 
48 

Father  condemns  child,  309, 
329-330,  392,  426-427,  441, 
445,  451-452 

Feast  and  Fight,  see  Banquet 
and  Battle 

Feuillerat,  Albert,  238  n.  5, 
250  n.  la 

Flaubert,   Gustave,    T  57 

Forster,  Richard,  171  n.  41 

Fortini,   161 

Fortune,  in  Greek  Romances, 
overemphasized,  4,  6;  to- 
gether with  Providence,  prime 
mover  of  story,  137-138; 
makes  character  cowardly  or 
deceitful,  138-143;  subjec- 
tion to,  157 

In  Heliodorus,  controlled 
by  Providence  in  main  plot, 
111-113,  116,  188;  but  con- 
trols episodes,  114-115;  116, 
117,  126 

In  Achilles  Tatius,  controls 
main  plot,  117;  distorts  char- 
acter, 117-119,  143,  146;  op- 
poses, or  co-operates  with 
Virtu,  120;  very  powerful, 
126;  moves  the  drama,  183 
n.  55 

In  Longus,   almost  power- 
less,  123  n.   7,   124,   126,    166 
In    Day,    greatly    overem- 
phasised,   245 


In  Sidney,  controlled  by 
Providence,  308,  322-323, 
328;  as  a  vera  causa,  rare, 
324-325;  and  almost  exclu- 
sively in  episodes,  ibid.; 
does  not  dominate  Sidney, 
and  is  viewed  coolly  and 
speculatively,  324-325,  or  as 
faton  de  parler,  324,  325- 
326,  or  as  a  real,  though  weak, 
antitheton  to  "  Virtue,"  326- 
328:  Providence  subjects  For- 
tune to  Virtue,  328 

In  Boccaccio,  evidence  of 
derivation  of  certain  stories 
from  Greek  Romance,  372- 
374 

In  Greene  (q.  v.),  375; 
used  largely  as  in  Achilles 
Tatius,  380-392;  used  as  in 
Heliodorus:  409-411,  422 
(shipwreck,  theatrical  situa- 
tions) ;  under  control  of  the 
gods,  423 ;  exposed  child  com- 
mitted to,  425,  446,  452; 
used  as  in  Longus,  435-438; 
Fortune  in  pastoral,  435; 
Fortune  and  Love,  435-438 

In  Shakespeare  (Winter's 
Tale),  child  committed  to, 
452;  but  agency  of,  largely 
rejected  in  favor  of  natural 
causation  and  human  motive, 
453-456 

Blamed  for  human  actions 
and  their  plain  consequences, 
118-119,  137-8,  146,  381  and 
n.  23.  Love  and,  374,  380, 
435-438,  444.  Forbids  sus- 
tained plot  or  characteriza- 
tion, 381.  Obscures  moral 
connections  between  charac- 
ter, action,  and  consequen- 
ces, 137-8.  Brings  about 
paradoxical  situations,  211- 
212,  214-215,  325  n.  10,  357 
&  n.  35,  358,  380-381;  shares 
this  function  with  Love,  437- 
438.  Its  prevalence  signifi- 
cant of  a  base  view  of  life 
and  literature,  234-235.  Lues 
Fortunae,  in  Day,  245;  in 


INDEX 


5'3 


Greene,  381-384.  Tycho- 
mania,  in  Greene,  381-384, 
457.  Brings  about  theatrical 
situations,  325  n.  10,  355- 
357,  422,  446.  VirtH  and, 
120  &  n.  5,  151,  326-328, 
377,  386  &  n.  30,  436  n.  60. 
Nature  and,  382,  385  &  n.  29. 
Wheel  of,  387  n.  31 
Fournival,  Richard  de,  209  n. 

75 

Frame-tale,  195,  199,  369,  379, 
393.  399-  And  see  Envelop- 
ing Action 

Fraunce,  Abraham,  344 
Friends,  Two,  see  Two  Friends 
Furtwangler,  Adolf,  172  n.  43, 
436  n.  59 

Galerie  de  Florence,  La,  172  n. 
43 

Gambara,  Lorenzo,  paraphrase 
of  Daphnis  and  Chloe,  8,  239 

Gassmeyer,  G.   M.,  463  n.   i 

Gaulmin,  ed.  princ.  and  trans- 
lation of  Eustathius  Mak- 
rembolites,  9;  ed.  princ.  of 
Theodorus  Prodromus,  to 

Genre-scenes,   160-161,  175 

Gesta  Romanorum,  258-261 

Gil  Bias,  161 

Giolito,  Gabriele,  246 

Giunta,  Filippo,  ed.  princ.  of 
Longus,  9,  240 

Glover,  T.  R.,  170  n.  40 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  253-256, 
258-261 

Gorgias,  7,  218  n.  70,  220,  221, 
359,  361 

Grasse,  J.  G.  T.,  237  n.  3 

Greek  Romances,  general  char- 
acteristics, 1-7.  Accessibility 
to  Elizabethan  writers  through 
editions  and  translations,  2, 
8-10  (Table),  237-247,  477- 
482;  influence  upon  English 
literature  threefold,  463:  (a) 
directly  upon  Elizabethan  fic- 
tion, 461,  463;  (b)  through 
Elizabethan  fiction,  upon 
drama  (King  Lear,  Winter's 
Tale,  etc.)  463;  (c)  through 
34 


Elizabethan  fiction  (Arcadia), 
and  through  French  ro- 
mances, upon  later  fiction 
(novel)  (Richardson,  Scott), 
462-464.  The  romances  of 
Heliodorus,  Longus,  and 
Achilles  Tatius,  the  only  ex- 
tant Greek  Romances  that 
influence  Elizabethan  prose 
fiction,  7.  Chronology,  8-10 
(Table) 

Analyses,  n-no:  JEthio- 
pica,  11-28;  Daphnis  and 
Chloe,  29-42;  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe,  43-110 

Plot,  111-137:  Activity  of 
Providence  and  of  Fortune, 
ui-120,  123  n.  7,  126,  188; 
of  Human  Character  or 
Personality  (Virtu),  120;  of 
Love,  121-122,  127-137;  of 
Causation,  124-126;  Pastoral 
Element  in,  121-124 

Character,  degenerates  in- 
to sentimentality,  6;  causa- 
tion and,  not  the  only  mo- 
tive forces  in  plot,  in;  less 
prominent  than  Plot,  137; 
138-157:  created  despite  ro- 
mancer's want  of  interest, 
138;  timorous  or  deceitful, 
because  either  yielding  to  cir- 
cumstances (Fortune)  or 
squirming  out  of  them,  138- 
140;  distorted  by  love  of 
paradox,  141;  mendacious, 
141-143;  displaced  by  rhe- 
torical display  of  sentimen- 
tality, 143-146;  of  Clitophon, 
146-149;  from  Comedy, — Sa- 
tyrus,  Clio,  Sosthenes,  Ther- 
sander,  149-150;  of  The- 
agenes,  150-151;  of  Chariclea, 
151-152;  of  Leucippe,  152- 
153;  of  Melitta,  154-157;  of 
Greeks  generally  moderate, 
of  barbarians  generally  pas- 
sionate, 153  n.  30;  drawing 
of,  at  its  best  in  Melitta,  157 

Humor,  154,  157-162:  real- 
ism and,  157-158;  Helio- 
dorus's,  mostly  in  episodes, 


INDEX 


weak,  largely  verbal,  158- 
159,  162;  Achilles  Tatius's, 
realistic,  strong,  often  mas- 
terly, inherent  in  situation, 
160-162;  Longus's,  pervasive, 
162 

Setting,  162-192:  Histor. 
ical,  vague,  163.  Geograph- 
ical, vague,  163-164;  in  Heli- 
odorus  and  Achilles  Tatius 
used  mostly  to  instruct  or 
entertain,  but  occasionally  to 
produce  real  background, 
164-167;  in  Longus,  relevant 
and  intrinsically  beautiful, 
166-167.  Descriptive,  excess 
of,  a  fault  of  Greek  Romance, 
1 68;  least  offensive  in  Lon- 
gus, ibid.;  his  pictorial  treat- 
ment of  incidents,  ibid.; 
wide  range  of  sensuous 
imagery,  168-169,  242,  244; 
moderation,  169,  199;  rich- 
ness in  simplicity,  169,  242; 
Achilles  Tatius's  excess  of 
description  a  rhetorical 
showpiece,  169-171;  Europa, 
painting  of,  171-173;  irrele- 
vancy of  word-paintings,  173- 
176;  exceptions  have  broader 
range  of  imagery  and  form 
part  of  narrative,  174-175. 
Heliodorus's  spectacles  rele- 
vant, 176,  181;  almost  omits 
'E<c<£p<zcris,  177;  his  "pathetic 
optics,"  177-179,  184,  189; 
"hieratic  epiphany,"  179-180, 
188-189;  theatrical  concep- 
tion and  terminology,  181- 
184,  189;  spectacular  en- 
semble-scenes, 184-189 

Structure,  192-220:  Helio- 
dorus's epic  plan,  192;  invo- 
lution, 193-194,  198;  effects 
of  theatrical  conception,  194- 
195,  197,  198  n.  67;  complica- 
tion, 195,  198;  loose  threads, 
195;  obscure  time-arrange- 
ment, 195;  irrelevancy,  195- 
196;  dramatic  retardation, 
suspense,  interpolation,  197- 
ip8.  Longus's  plain  time- 


scheme;  lack  of  involution, 
complication,  retardation,  or 
suspense;  episodes;  modera- 
tion; 199.  Achilles  Tatius's 
story  told  by  hero,  199;  who 
inconsistently  assumes  omnis- 
cience, 199-200;  dramatic 
choice  of  persons  to  convey  in- 
formation, 200;  time-arrange- 
ment chronological,  free  from 
epic  conventions,  and  de- 
tailed, 200-201;  suspense, 
20 1,  202;  irrelevancies,  201- 
210:  of  Plot,  202-206;  of 
Characterization,  206;  of  Set- 
ting, 206-207;  of  Science 
and  Pseudo-Science,  207-210. 
(And  see  Structure,  Narra- 
tive) 

Paradox,  210-221:  irrele- 
vancy and,  two  phases  of 
the  unexpected,  210;  sought 
consciously,  211-213;  irony, 
313-217;  antithetical  situa- 
tions, 217-221:  bridal  and 
burial,  217-218;  land  and 
water,  218-220,  221;  water 
and  fire,  218  n.  79;  living 
tomb,  220 

Style,  217-235:  antithesis 
in  situation  itself,  217-220; 
artificial  antithesis,  largely 
verbal,  221-235:  antithesis 
and  oxymoron,  221-229;  bal- 
ance, 222,  229-231;  home- 
ophony,  231-233;  expresses 
base  view  of  life  and  litera- 
ture, 235.  (And  see  Antithe- 
sis; Rhetoric) 

Spectacular  heroics,  190- 
191 

Lack  of   spirituality,    190- 

191,  235 

Greene,  Robert,  172  n.  45, 
239,  240,  247,  367-458:  versa- 
tility and  timeliness,  367-368, 
375;  variety  of  his  sources, 
367-375:  Euphues,  367,  369, 
375;  Sidney's  Arcadia,  367- 
368,  375,  406,  415,  416,  43°. 
432,  440,  443-445,  456,  457; 
pastoral,  368,  375,  376,  386  n. 
30;  mediaeval  survivals,  368- 


INDEX 


515 


369,  373;    novella,   369-375: 
adapted  to  Greene's  powers, 

370.  Greene  incapable  of  more 
elaborate  forms  of  plot,  381, 
407;      borrows     from      Boc- 
caccio novelle  which  are  all 
probably  from  lost  Greek  Ro- 
mances, 370-375:  Decani.  II. 
6  (Perimedes,  first  tale),  370- 
372;  Decam.  V.  2  (Perimedes, 
second    tale),    372-373;    De- 
cam.     V.    I     (Tullies    Lone, 
episode  of   Fabius  and  Ter- 
entia),  373-374 

Affinity  to  Greek  Romance : 
pastoral  tendency,  love  of 
pure  plot,  weak  sense  of  mo- 
tive and  causal  nexus,  depen 
dence  upon  Fortune,  love  of 
garish  stylistic  ornament,  of 
ensemble  scenes,  of  oratory, 
of  pathos  and  "  pathetic  op- 
tics." 375 

Special  affinity  to  Achilles 
Tatius,  376-393:  Greene  fond 
of  antithesis  and  paradox, 
376-377,  380-381;  which  are 
his  only  means  of  character- 
ization, 376-377;  not  inter- 
ested in  character,  377,  407 ; 
"conflicting  emotions," 
rivalry,  "  Wit  and  Will," 
"  Virtue  and  Fortune,"  etc., 
377;  homeophony,  377-379; 
inconsistencies  in  frame-tale 
narrated  in  first  person,  379, 
393;  fondness  for  set 
speeches,  379-380.  Fortune, 
uses  of,  380-392:  produces 
antithetical  situations,  380- 
381;  Greene  enslaved  to,  375, 
381-384;  lues  fortunae,  or 
tychomania,  381,  384,  407, 
411,  457;  incapacitates  him 
for  sustained  plot,  or  for 
consistent  characterization, 
381,  407;  credited  with 
plain  effects  of  human  ac- 
tion, 381;  and  the  "gifts 
of  Nature,"  382;  Fortune  as 
a  cliche,  382-383;  Fortune 
coupled  with  other  agencies 


(Fate,  the  Gods,  etc.)  in 
"  drag-net "  formulae,  383, 
389;  Fortune  as  empty  form- 
ula, 383-384;  but  sometimes 
used  imaginatively,  as  a  vera 
causa,  ibid.;  the  mistress 
of  the  plot,  387-392;  sub- 
stituted for  B  o  c  c  a  c  c  i  o's 
natural  causes  (Decam.  II. 
6)  to  bring  about  peripeteia 
in  Perimedes,  first  tale,  388- 
389;  conducts  shipwreck, 
etc.,  389-390,  392;  ironical, 
389-390;  turns  to  good,  391; 
brings  about  "  moment  of 
last  suspense "  in  Pandosto, 
391-392;  sometimes  used  in- 
tellectually, as  a  subject  of 
discussion  384-386:  its  rela- 
tion to  other  non-human 
forces  (Fate,  Providence, 
etc.),  384;  relation  to  man 
(Fortune  and  Nature,  For- 
tune and  Virtu),  385-386; 
sometimes  personified,  387  & 
n.  31  (Wheel),  401-402  n.  37 
Borrowings  from  Achilles 
Tatius,  393-408,  457:  Ar- 
basto,  frame  and  beginning, 
393-395,  407,  456.  Cards  of 
Fancie,  names,  invective 
against  women,  "  the  Sicilian 
spring,"  395-398;  soliloquy, 
tirade,  double  wedding,  404; 
456.  Morando,  names,  396; 
picture  of  Europa,  399-401; 
picture  of  Andromeda,  402, 

404,  456.     But  Greene's  vis- 
ual imagination  too  weak  to 
be  stimulated  even  by  Achil- 
les   Tatius,    403,    407,    457. 
Alcida,   conflicting  emotions, 

405,  Pandosto,  brutal  court- 
ship,  405,    451,   452.     Philo- 
mela, commitment  to  Fortune, 
389,   405;    denouement,   405- 
406;    456.      Groatsviorth,    in- 
terchange of  fables,  406-407, 
457 

Relations  to  Heliodorus, 
375,  408-432,  444-446,  451- 
452,  456-457:  spectacular  en- 


5i6 


INDEX 


setnble-scenca,  375,  376,  402, 

408,  417-422,    446;    oratory, 
375.  379-380,  418;  "  pathetic 
optics,"  375,  419  &  n.  50,  445; 
pathos,    37S,    417-422,    446; 
suffering   heroine,    408,   411- 
412;   oracles,   408,   410,  420- 
424,   428,   432,   443-444,   446, 
452,    457;    recognition,    408, 
410,  418,  427-428,  445,  452; 
allusions    to    Theagenes    and 
Chariclea,  408-409;  astrology, 

409.  Heliodorean    uses    of 
Fortune:  Fortune,  associated 
with  oracle,  exposure,  &  res- 
toration,   brings    about    ship- 
wreck, 410,  444,  451;  makes 
theatrical  situations,  410-411, 
422;    under    control    of    the 
gods,  423;  exposed  child  com- 
mitted to,  425,  444,  446.     Suf- 
fering and  dissembling  types 
of  character,  411-413;  minor 
incidents,     413-417.       Major 
borrowings,  417-432:  denoue- 
ment   of    Carde    of    Fancie, 
417-418;  denouement  of  Tul- 
lies  Love,   418;    denouement 
of  Philomela,   418-419,   456; 
trial-scene  in  Pandosto,  420- 
422,  446,  452;  oracle  in  Pan- 
dosto   and    Menaphon,    420- 
424,  428,   432,   443-445,  446; 
exposure,    etc.,    in    Pandosto 
and  Menaphon,  424-428,  444, 
446,  451;  moment  of  last  sus- 
pense,   and    denouement,    in 
Pandosto      and      Menaphon, 
426-429,445,  452;  absurdities 
resulting    from    blind    imita- 
tion of  Heliodorus,  428,  430- 
432,  456;  influence  of  Helio- 
dorus   structural,    408,    428- 
429,  444.  452,  456 

Relations  to  Longus,  375, 
432-439.  444,  445,  446-450 
(Table,  448-450),  452-457; 
love  of  pastoral,  375;  em- 
ployment of  pastoral  as  epi- 
sode in  urban  story,  432-433; 
ridicule  of  rusticity,  433-434, 
445.  Uses  of  Fortune;  For- 


tune and  the  pastoral,  435; 
Fortune  and  Love,  435-438, 
444.  Direct  borrowings, 
(Menaphon)  438-439,  (Pan- 
dosto)  446-450,  452-457 

Relations  to  Shakespeare 
(.Winter's  Tale,  Pandosto); 
see  Shakespeare 

Chronological  development 
of  influence  of  Greek  Ro- 
mances upon,  456-457;  small 
effect  upon  Greene  as  literary 
artist,  457,  461;  insignificant 
contribution  of  Greek  Ro- 
mance to  English  novel 
through  Greene,  457-458;  fic- 
tion moving  away  from  no- 
vella, in  which  Greene  was 
skilful,  towards  romance, 
which  he  could  never  com- 
pass, 462;  decline  of  his 
vogue,  462 

Alcida,  377  n.  14,  383  n. 
26,  386  n.  30,  387  n.  31,  389; 
borrowings  from  Clitophon 
and  Leucippe,  398,  405;  409, 
413-414,  436  nn.  60  &  61, 
437  nn.  62  &  64,  438  n.  65 

Arbasto,  368  n.  4,  378  n. 
18,  379,  381  n.  23,  383  n.  25, 
386  n.  30,  387  n.  31;  paral- 
leled with  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe,  393-3951  date  of 
publication,  395,  404;  399, 
407,  409,  411  n.  42,  412  n. 
46,  437  nn.  62  &  64,  456 

Black  Bookes  Messenger, 
367,  377  n.  15 

Carde  of  Fancie,  367,  368 
n.  4,  369  n.  5,  373  n.  12, 
374  n.  13,  377  n.  14,  378,  379. 
381  n.  23,  383  n.  25,  384  n. 
28,  385  n.  29,  386  n.  30,  387 
n.  31,  388,  391;  borrowings 
from  Clitophon  and  Leucippe, 
395-398,  404;  date  of  publi- 
cation, 395,  404;  411  nn.  41 
&  42,  414,  416-418  &  n.  49. 
43°  "•  53.  436  nn.  60  &  61, 
437  n.  62,  438  n.  65,  456 

Conny catching,  Second 
Part,  386  n.  30 


INDEX 


517 


Connycatching   Series,    367 

Debate  between  Folly  and 
Lore,  369  n.  7,  416  n.  49, 
437  n.  64 

Disputation  between  a  Hee- 
Connycatcher  and  a  Shee- 
Conny  catcher,  381  n.  23 

Euphues  his  Censure  to 
Philautus,  369  n.  8,  377  n. 
'7.  380,  383  n.  25,  384  n.  28, 
385  n.  29,  386  n.  30,  387  n. 
3'.  389,  39°,  412  n.  45,  436 
&  n.  60,  437  n.  62 

Farewell  to  Folly,  369  n.  8, 
377  nn.  15,  16,  380,  384  n. 
27.  385  n.  29,  386  n.  30,  387 
n.  31,  411  n.  42,  434,  435  & 
n.  58 

Francescos  Fortunes,  368 
n.  2,  369  n.  10,  377  n.  15, 
385  n.  29,  390,  411  n.  42, 
412  n.  44,  420,  434,  436  n. 
60 

Groatsworth  of  Wit,  370 
n.  ii,  412  n.  44;  probable 
borrowing  from  Achilles  Ta- 
tius,  406-407,  457 

Mamillia,  367,  369  n.  6, 
377  n.  15,  383  n.  25,  385  n. 
29,  386  n.  30,  387  n.  31,  408- 

409,  411    n.   42,   412   nn.   44 
&  46,  416  n.  49;  motivation, 
429-430 

Menaphon,  368,  376,  384 
nn.  27  &  28,  386  n.  30,  391, 
402  n.  39,  411  n.  42,  414, 
435  &  "•  58,  438  n.  65;  analy- 
sis, 440-442;  relation  to  Pan- 
dosto,  456;  relation  to  Helio- 
dorus,  410,  412  n.  43,  415, 
419  n.  50,  420  n.  503,  422- 
428,  444-445,  456;  relation  to 
Longus,  434-436,  (direct  bor- 
rowing) 438-439,  444-445; 
relation  to  Sidney's  Arcadia, 

410,  440,  443-444,  445,  456; 
relation  to  Warner's  Albions 
England,   440,  442-443,  445; 
absurd  motivation,  structure, 
etc.,  430-432,  435.  456 

Mirrour  of  Modestie,  369 
n.  10,  420 


Morando,  369  n.  8,  374  n. 
13,  381  n.  22,  383  n.  26,  384, 
385  n.  29,  386  n.  30,  387  n. 
3i.  393  n.  34;  date  of  pub- 
lication, 395,  404;  borrow- 
ings from  Clitophon  and 
Leucippe,  396,  399-402,  404; 
4°9.  437  n.  62,  438  n.  65, 
456 

Mourning  Garment,  369 
nn.  8  &  9,  377  nn.  15  &  16, 

385  n.  29,  386  n.  30,  412  n. 
44,  434,  436  n.  60,  438  n.  65 

Never  too  Late,  381  n.  23, 

386  n.  30,  398,  411  nn.  41  & 
42,  412  n.  44,  436  n.  60 

Notable  Discovery  of  Coos- 
nage,  377  n.  15 

Orpharion,  369  n.  5,  383  n. 
26,  386  n.  30,  411  n.  42,  436 
n.  60,  437  n.  62,  438  n.  65 

Pandosto,  383  n.  25,  384  n. 
28,  386  n.  30,  387  n.  31,  391- 
392,  414,  431  n.  54,  435  n.  58, 
436  n.  60,  437  n.  62.  Con- 
tains Greene's  first  pastoral, 
433.  Source  of  The  Win- 
ter's Tale,  376,  445-446, 
(Table)  448-450;  but  Shakes- 
peare probably  went  behind 
Pandosto  and  directly  to 
Day's  Daphnis  and  Chloe, 
for  some  important  material, 
452-455.  Employment  of 
Fortune,  largely  rejected  by 
Shakespeare,  453-456.  Ex- 
hibits with  greatest  fulness 
the  influence  of  the  Greek 
Romances,  376,  432,  456. 
Imitated  in  Menaphon,  456. 
Relations  to  Achilles  Tatius, 
376,  405,  451,  456.  Rela- 
tions to  Heliodorus,  410,  411 
&  n.  42,  412  n.  46,  420-426, 
446,  451-452,  456.  Rela- 
tions to  Longus,  433,  435, 
445-450  (Table,  448-450), 
452-457.  Motivation,  426  n. 
Si,  454 

Penelopes  Web,  369  n.  8, 
379,  381  n.  22,  382  n.  24, 
383  n.  25,  384  n.  28,  386  n. 


5i8 


INDEX 


30,  390,  411  n.  42,  412  n.  44, 
416  n.   49,   435  n.    58 

Perimedes  the  Black  Smith, 
369  n.  8;  first  tale,  from 
Boccaccio,  Decam.  II.  6, 
370-372;  second  tale,  from 
Boccaccio,  Decam.  V.  2,  372- 
373;  both  of  which  are  prob- 
ably from  lost  Greek  Ro- 
mances, 370-373;  380,  384  n. 
28,  386  n.  30,  387  n.  31,  388- 
389,  390,  410-411,  411  n. 
42,  414,  435  n.  58,  436  n.  60, 
437  n.  62 

Philomela,  368,  377  n.  14, 
380,  381  n.  23,  386  n.  30, 
388,  389,  390;  borrowings 
from  Achilles  Tatius,  389, 
405-406;  from  Sidney,  406, 
415;  from  Heliodorus,  411 
&  n.  42,  414-415,  418-420, 
422,  435  n.  58,  436  n.  60, 
437,  n.  62,  438  n.  65,  456 

Planetomachia,  369  n.  7, 
378,  381  n.  23,  384  n.  28, 
386  n.  30,  388,  409,  411  n. 
42,  412  nn.  43  &  45,  414,  415- 
416  &  n.  49,  430  n.  53,  436, 
437  n.  62 

Quip  for  an  Upstart  Court- 
ier, 369  n.  5 

Royal  Exchange,  435 

Spanish  Masquerade,  386 
n.  30 

Tullies  Love,  368  n.  3; 
episode  of  Fabius  and  Ter- 
entia  from  Boccaccio,  Decam. 
V.  i,  which  is  probably  from 
lost  Greek  Romance,  370, 
373-375;  377  n.  16,  380,  384 
n.  28,  386  n.  30,  414,  418, 
436  n.  60,  437,  438  n.  65 

Vision,    369    n.    5,    370    n. 

it,  385  n.  29,  411  n.  42,  434 

Grimm,  Wilhelm,  248,  251-252, 

256 

Grosart,  A.   B.,  395 
Guarini,  Pastor  Fido,  433 
Guillaume  le  Clerc,  209  n.  75 

Helbig,  Wolfgang,  172  n.  42 
Heliodorus,    JSthiopica,     I,    7; 
editions     and     translations, 


8,  237-239,  375-376.    Analy- 
sis,   11-28.      Main   plot   con- 
trolled  by   Providence,    m- 
117,  126,  1 88;  priests,  oracles, 
etc.,    in,     111-113;    episodes 
and     minor     incidents     con- 
trolled by  Fortune,   113-115. 
Love,  sensual,   127;  dignified 
by  genuine  chastity,  127-128; 
still,  not  a  spiritual  relation 
so    much    as    an    abstention 
from  a  carnal  relation,   128- 

9.  Affinity   to    tragedy    and 
epic,    116-117,    157,    181-184, 
189,  192 

Character,  often  cowardly 
or  deceitful,  139-141;  falsely 
motived  because  of  love  of 
paradox,  141;  sometimes  dis- 
placed by  pathos,  144;  of 
Theagenes,  150-151;  of 
Chariclea,  151-152.  Humor, 
mostly  in  episodes,  weak, 
largely  verbal,  158-159,  162 

Setting,  historical,  vague, 
163;  geographical,  inaccurate 
and  non-essential,  generally 
lacks  local  color,  and  is  em- 
ployed to  instruct  or  enter- 
tain, but  occasionally  pro- 
duces real  background,  164- 
167;  descriptive,  176-191: 
spectacles  relevant,  176,  181; 
almost  omits  <f<e<J>pacrt?,  177; 
"  pathetic  optics,"  177-179, 
184,  189;  "hieratic  epiph- 
any," 179-180,  188-189;  the- 
atrical conception  and  ter- 
minology, 181-184,  189;  spec- 
tacular ensemble-scenes,  184- 
189;  spectacular  heroics,  190- 
191;  lack  of  spirituality,  190- 
191 

Narrative  structure,  192- 
198:  epic  plan,  192;  compli- 
cation, 195,  198;  involution, 
193-194,  198;  effects  of  the- 
atrical conception,  194-1951 
197  &  n.  65,  198  n.  67; 
loose  threads,  195;  obscure 
time-arrangement,  ibid.,  ir- 
relevancy, 195-196,  201;  dra- 


INDEX 


519 


matic   retardation,    interpola- 
tion, suspense,  197-198 

Pseudo-science,  195,  208- 
209.  Paradox,  211-213. 
Irony,  214-215.  Antitheses: 
see  Antithesis 

Style,  less  artificial  than 
that  of  Achilles  Tatius  or 
Longus,  222  n.  81 

Hcptameron,  353  n.  34 

Heraclitus,  234 

Herford,  C.  H.,  432  n.  56 

Herodotus,  7,  415  n.  47 

Heroics,  Spectacular,  150,  190- 
191,  3iS 

Heroine,  Suffering,  (Helio- 
dorus,  Greene)  408,  411-412 

Hieratic  Element,  in  Helio- 
dorus,  pervades  main  plot, 
111-113;  428,  445;  in  Achil- 
les Tatius,  confined  to  epi- 
sode, 117;  in  Greene,  422, 
427-428,  445;  and  see  "  Hier- 
atic Epiphany  " 

"  Hieratic  Epiphany,"  179-180, 
188-189 

Hippocrates,  234 

Hippolytus,  413,  416 

Historic  Background,  etc.  See 
Setting 

"  Homeophony,"  231-234,  378- 
379 

Homer,  117;  Iliad,  7,  158,  170; 
Odyssey,  158,  161,  170,  193 

Horace,   172 

Howard,  W.  G.,  171  n.  41 

Howell,  Thomas,  343-344 

Humor,  in  Greek  Romances, 
IS4-I5S;  157-162=  realism 
and,  157-158;  Heliodorus's, 
mostly  in  episodes,  weak, 
largely  verbal,  158-159,  162; 
Achilles  Tatius's,  realistic, 
strong,  often  masterly,  in- 
herent in  situation,  160-162; 
Longus's,  pervasive,  162; 
Sidney's  not  influenced  by 
Greek  Romance,  308,  330- 
334 

Hunt,  drives  poats  (Longus) 
'25.  372.  (Boccaccio)  371- 
372,  388;  motif  not  in 


Greene,  probably  borrowed 
d  i  r  e  c  t  ly  by  Shakespeare 
(Winter's  Tale)  from  Day, 
452-455 

Huon  of  Bordeaux,  368,  373 
Hyfwerotomachia  Poliphili,  see 
Colonna,    Francesco 

lamblichus,  Babylonica,oi  Rho- 
danes  and  Sinonis,  8,  164  n. 
36,  205  n.  72,  254,  357  «.  36. 

373 

Idyll,  3,  168  n.  37,  244 

Illusion,  191,  408,  464 

Imagery,  Sensuous,  Range  of, 
see  Description 

[mprisonment  together  of  lov- 
ers or  friends,  (Heliodorus, 
Sidney)  311-312,  (Helio- 
dorus, Greene)  426,  445 

Interpolation,  197,  198,  202, 
350 

Inversion,  193-194,  198-199. 
351-352 

Involution,  see  Inversion 

Irony,  in  oracle,  112;  as  a 
species  of  paradox,  213-217; 
dramatic,  214;  in  Heliodorus, 
214-215;  in  Longus,  215;  in 
Achilles  Tatius,  216-217; 
omitted  by  Day,  245;  in  Sid- 
ney, 321;  in  Greene,  389- 
390 

Irrelevancy,  6,  166,  168,  173  n. 
46,  174,  175.  177.  196  n.  64, 
198.  In  Achilles  Tatius,  201- 
210:  of  Plot,  202-206;  of 
Characterization,  206;  of  Set- 
ting, 206-207;  of  Science  and 
Pseudo-Science,  207-210.  Ir- 
relevancy and  paradox,  two 
phases  of  the  Unexpected, 
210.  Significant  of  a  base 
view  of  life,  234-235.  Al- 
most absent  in  Sidney,  350  n. 
32 

Jacobs,  Friedrich,  130  n.  13, 
149  n.  28,  157  n.  32,  197  n. 
65.  237  n.  3,  241  n.  it 

Jacobs,  Joseph,  239  n.  7,  241 
nn.  10  &  12 


520 


INDEX 


Jahn,  Otto,   172  n.  42 
Johannes    Secundus,    134 
Jonson,    Ben,    134    n.    18,    240 
n.  8 

Kerlin,  Robert  T.,  463  n.  2 
Kiss,   worship  of,    134-135 
Koeppel,    Emil,    344,    370    n. 

na 
Koerting,  H.   K.  O.,   120  n.  4, 

128  n.  10,  237  n.  3 

La  Fontaine,  130  n.  12 

Land  and  Water,  see  Antithesis 

Landau,  Marcus,  251  n.  2,  372 

Lang,  Andrew,  6  n.  5,  170 
n.  40 

Lapidaries,    208 

Lauchert,  Friedrich,  209  n.   75 

Law,  6,  7,  8,  235,  464 

Lee,  A.  Collingwood,  251  n.  2 

Lee,  Sidney,  377  n.  15 

Lenglet  du  Fresnoy,  Nicolas, 
273  "•  3»  246  nn.  23,  26,  27 

Lessing,   176 

Living  Tomb,  see  Antithesis 

Lodge,  Thomas,  239,  247,  433; 
allusions  to  Heliodorus  the 
only  evidence  of  influence  of 
Greek  Romances,  459-460; 
461 

Longinus,    157-158,    161,   220 

Longus,  Daphnis  and  Chloe, 
7,  8.  Editions  and  transla- 
tions, 8,  239-240,  375-376; 
Amyot's  and  Day's  versions, 
see  Amyot;  Day.  Analysis, 
29-42 

Plot  controlled  by  Eros, 
121 ;  decreed  to  be  a  pastoral, 
ibid.;  but  from  urban  point 
of  view,  122;  employs  appa- 
ratus of  tragedy,  ibid.;  ridi- 
cules rusticity,  ibid.;  urban 
"enveloping  action,"  123; 
pastoral  as  interlude  in  urban 
story,  ibid.;  control  of  For- 
tune minimized  by  absence  of 
travel  and  adventure,  and  by 
control  of  Eros,  124;  sway  of 
causation  resumed,  124-126. 
Love  frankly  sensual,  128, 


130;  tempered  by  innocence 
of  children  and  by  charm  of 
country-life,  130-131;  instruc- 
tion in,  136;  sophisticated 
treatment  of  pastoral,  122- 
123;  of  love,  130-131.  Inci- 
dent of  the  hunt,  borrowed 
by  Shakespeare,  125,  453- 
455 

Character,  cowardly,  139; 
mendacious,  141 ;  partly  dis- 
placed by  rhetorical  display 
of  sentimentality,  144.  Hu- 
mor, pervasive,  162 

Setting,  in  time,  undefined, 
163 ;  geographical,  though 
denned,  lacks  "  local  color," 
ibid.;  but  relevant  and  in- 
trinsically beautiful,  166-167; 
description,  excessive,  a  fault 
of  Greek  Romances,  least  of- 
fensive in  Longus,  168;  his 
pictorial  treatment  of  inci- 
dents, ibid.;  wide  range  of 
sensuous  imagery,  168-169, 
242,  244;  moderation,  169, 
199;  richness  in  simplicity, 
169,  242;  restraint,  176 

Narrative  structure,  simple, 
199.  Paradox,  211.  Irony, 
215.  Style,  artificial,  222  n. 
81;  artificially  simple,  232  n. 
86.  Theatrical  conception  and 
terminology,  183  n.  55.  Spec- 
tacular heroics,  190-191. 
Lack  of  spirituality,  ibid. 
Love,  in  Greek  Romances,  127- 
137:  sensual,  but  dignified  by 
chastity,  127;  genuinely  in 
Heliodorus,  127-129;  super- 
ficially in  Achilles  Tatius, 
129-130;  not  at  all  in  Longus, 
130-131.  A  genuine  attach- 
ment, emancipating  women, 
yet  not  noble  per  se,  131-132. 
Anticipations  of  later  treat- 
ment of  love,  134-137;  the 
Kiss,  134-135;  spirit-theory 
and  image-theory,  135;  code, 
136.  In  Heliodorus  not  a 
spiritual  relation  so  much  as 
abstention  from  a  sensual 


INDEX 


521 


relation,  128.  In  Longus, 
love,  instead  of  Fortune,  con- 
trols plot,  121,  435-436; 
frankly  sensual,  128,  130;  to 
be  taught  to  reader,  136.  In 
Achilles  Tatius,  exceptionally 
noble  in  episode  of  Callis- 
thenes  and  Calligone,  132. 
In  Greene,  closely  associated 
with  Fortune,  436;  like  For- 
tune, brings  about  bizarre 
situations,  437-438;  miscel- 
laneous similarities  to  Greek 
Romance,  438  n.  65.  Trans- 
formation of  character  by, 
132.  373-374,  438  n.  65.  Pla- 
t'  lie  love-doctrine,  parodied, 
1J3-I34;  traces  of,  134  n.  17. 
Fortune  and,  374,  380,  436- 
438,  444 
Lucian,  170,  172 
"  Lues  Fortunae";  see  Fortune 
Lyly,  John,  239,  247,  248-261: 
Campaspe,  Mother  Bombie, 
Gallathea,  affected  by  Helio- 
dorus  and  Achilles  Tatius, 
248  n.  i.  Style  of  Euphues 
possibly  affected  by  style  of 
Achilles  Tatius,  248  n.  I, 
256  n.  3 

Eupliues  probably  derived 
mediately  from  lost  Greek 
Romance,  248-261,  370;  de- 
rived directly  from  Boccac- 
cio's Tito  and  Gisippo,  248- 
250,  255.  Tito  and  Gisippo 
derived  from  At  his  et  Pro- 
philias,  248,  250-251,  255, 
258-261  (Table) ;  or  directly 
from  lost  Greek  Romance, 
248,  250,  252-253,  256.  Athis 
et  Prophilias  probably  de- 
rived from  lost  Greek  Ro- 
mance, 248,  251-252,  256. 
Goldsmith  may  have  used 
this  lost  Greek  Romance, 
253-256,  258-261  (Table). 
Popularity  of  Euphues 
shorter-lived  than  that  of 
Arcadia,  462.  Allusion  to 
Rhodope,  416  n.  49.  "  Con- 
trarieties," 437  n.  63.  Gen- 


eral influence  of  Greek  Ro- 
mance upon,  461.  Artic- 
ulation of  material  in,  see 
Articulation  of  Plot 

Machiavelli,  326,  412,  429 

Maffei,  Scipione,  172  n.  45 

Mahaffy,  J.  P.,  170  n.  40 

Marino,  134,  172  n.  45,  224  n. 
82 

Marriage  and  Death,  see  An- 
tithesis 

Menendez  y  Pelayo,  Marcelino, 
131 

Milesian  Tales,  462 

Misogyny,  133,  162,  333-334. 
396-398,  411  &  n.  42 

Moliere,  160 

Moody,  William  Vaughn,  311 
n.  3,  318  n.  7 

Moschus,  170,  172 

Motivation,  falsified  by  love  of 
paradox,  141;  perverted,  148; 
of  Chariclea,  152  n.  29;  of 
Melitta,  155-156;  of  pre- 
tended fellow-prisoner  of 
Clitophon,  156  n.  31.  In 
Greene:  Menaphon,  425-426, 
428,  430-432;  Pandosto,  426 
n-  51,  454>  Mamillia, 429-430; 
generally  weak,  458 

Muzio,   Girolamo,    172  n.   45 

Mystery  Plays,   153  n.  30 

Naber,   S.  A.,   164 

Narration  by  participant,    193- 

194,    199,  349-350,   351,  353, 

379,  393-395 
Nash,  Thomas,  247,  335  n.   18, 

367;  not  influenced  by  Greek 

Romances,   459,   461 
Nicetas    Eugenianus,    Charicles 

and  Drosilla,  10 
Nicolaus  Pergamenus,   258-261 
Ninus- fragment,  8,  163  n.  65 
Nonnus,  172 
Norden,  Eduard,  218  n.  79,  220 

n.  80,  222  n.  81,  234  n.  87 
Novel,    English,   receives   from 

Greek       Romances      nothing 

through  Greene,  457-458 
English  fiction  develops  to- 


522 


INDEX 


wards,  away  from  novella, 
by  way  of  romance,  462;  sus- 
tained complex  form  of,  may 
be  partly  the  gift  of  Greek 
Romance,  by  way  of  French 
Romances  and  of  Sidney's 
Arcadia,  462-464 
Novella,  Ionic,  I.  In  Achilles 
Tatius,  117;  Callisthenes  and 
Calligone,  132-133,  201,  372, 
374.  In  Heliodorus,  Cnemon, 
133.  195.  201,  313,  319-320, 
416  &  n.  48.  In  Greene,  fre- 
quent, 369-375;  falls  well 
within  his  powers,  369-370; 
Boccaccio's  novelle  borrowed 
by  Greene,  all  probably  from 
lost  Greek  romances,  370- 
3751  Greene's  subjection  to 
Fortune  keeps  his  plot  in  no- 
vella-iorm,  381;  Greene  in- 
capable of  sustaining  plot  be- 
yond novella-length,  407; 
The  Farmer  Bridegroom, 
416  n.  48;  Greene  assimi- 
lated the  novella-form,  370, 
457,  462.  Boccaccio's,  see 
Boccaccio.  Fortini's,  161. 
Of  the  Renaissance,  149,  156, 
iS7.  319-320,  370,  457;  its 
success  and  decline  in  Eng- 
lish literature,  462;  does  not 
evolve  into  romance,  ibid. 

Oeftering,  Michael,  187  n.  56, 
192  n.  59,  238  n.  5,  313  n.  4, 
433  «-  57 

Opsopoeus,  Vincentius,  ed. 
princ.  of  Heliodorus,  8,  237 

"Optics,  Pathetic";  see  "Pa- 
thetic Optics  " 

Oracle,  in  Heliodorus,  112, 
113,  114,  127,  188,  410,  428, 
443-445,  446,  457.  In  Achil- 
les Tatius,  117.  In  Sidney, 
3°7,  319-321,  323,  347,  348, 
352,  443-444.  In  Greene, 
408,  410,  420-424,  428,  432, 
443-445,  446,  457-  In 
Guarini,  433.  In  Winter's 
Tale,  452 

Oratory,  6,  196  n.  64,  205,  254- 


255,    354-355,    375,    379~38o, 

418 

Overbeck,  J.  A.,  171  n.  41 
Ovid,    i,    134  n.    18,    136,    170, 

172,  220,  366  additional  note, 

413 

Oxymoron,  distinguished  from 
Antithesis,  221-222;  once  gen- 
uine expression  of  philosophic 
dualism,  in  Greek  Romances 
mere  artifice,  234;  in  Sidney, 
354,  357.  365  n.  38;  in  Greeene, 
380-381,  437-438 

Painting,  Alexandrian,  170;  lit- 
erature and,  170-176;  334- 
335 

|  Paradox,  5 ;  love  of,  falsifies  mo- 
tivation, 140-141;  irrelevancy 
and,  two  phases  of  the  un- 
expected,  210;  sought  con- 
sciously, 2 1 1 ;  brought  about 
by  Fortune,  211-212;  214- 
215:  357  &  n.  35,  35?; 
irony  a  species  of,  213,  307, 
319-320,  376-377,  380-381, 
398-399,  423-424,  431-432, 
443 
Parallel  Structure,  5,  222, 

229-231 

Paratactic  Structure,  232  n.  86 
Paris,  Gaston,  248,  252,  256 
Passow,  F.  L.  K.  F.,  149  n.  28 
Pastoral,    in    Longus,    121-124, 
169,    408,    448-450    (Table). 
In     Heliodorus,      122,     446. 
Achilles    Tatius    lacks,     122. 
In    Greene,    368,    375,    408, 
411,    432-435,    438-456.      In 
Lodge,  433,  460.    In  Winter's 
Tale,   448-450    (Table),   452. 
In  Tasso,  432-433.     In  San- 
nazaro,     433.       In    Warner, 
ibid.     Urban  aspect  of,   122- 
123,  368,  432-434,  460 
"  Pathetic    Optics,"    in    Helio- 
dorus,  177-179,   184,   189;  in 
Sidney,  338-342;  in  Greene, 
375-  419   &  "•    5°.   445 
"  Pathopoieia,"    145 
Pathos,   144,  156,   177-182,  184, 
186,  189,  242,  249,  250  n.  ia, 


INDEX 


523 


446 


338-34*,    375.    417-422, 


Peripeteia,  brought  about  by 
Fortune  in  Greene,  387,  388- 
389,  446;  by  natural  causes, 
in  Boccaccio,  Decant.  II.  6, 
388;  by  oracle,  in  Greene, 
424,  429,  446,  (and  in  Wint- 
er's Tale)  452 

Petrarchism,  221-222,  354,  437 

Petrus  Alphonsus,  251,  258-261 

Pettie,  George,  437  n.  63 

Phaedra,  see   Hippolytus 

Philostratus,  134  n.  18,  170, 
171  n.  41 

Photius,  8,  337  n.  36,  373  n.  12 

Physiologus,  209  n.  75 

Pindar,    170 

Piracy,  311,  315-316,  322,  371, 
372,  374,  438-439,  445 

Piscatory   Eclogue,   122 

Plato,   133-134 

Pliny,  415  n.  47 

Plot,  6;  in  Greek  Romances, 
111-137;  together  with  char- 
acter and  setting,  tends  to 
degenerate  into  mere  spec- 
tacle, 191;  irrelevancies  of, 
in  Achilles  Tatius,  202-206. 
More  prominent  than  charac- 
ter, in  Greek  Romances,  137; 
in  Sidney,  328;  and  innovella, 
369-370;  but  in  novella  not 
complicated,  370.  In  Lyly's 
Euphues,  articulated  as  in 
Tito  and  Gisippo  and  Athis 
et  Prophilias,  and  (probably) 
as  in  lost  Greek  Romance, 
248-251,  255-256,  258-261. 
In  Sidney,  307-328:  material 
partly  from  Amadis,  318-320, 
328;  but  mostly  from  Greek 
Romances,  307-318;  and 
wholly  kept  within  Helio- 
dorean  frame,  307-308,  319- 
320,  328;  because  dominated 
by  Providence,  320-323; 
which  manifests  itself  in 
oracles,  visions,  etc.,  ibid.; 
greatly  reduces  the  activity 
of  Fortune,  324-328;  and 
uses  both  Fortune  and 


Virtu  as  its  agents,  328. 
Greene  incapable  of  sus- 
tained or  complicated  plot,  370, 
407,  429,  457;  often  omits 
necessary  links,  429-432; 
prevented  by  his  subjection 
to  Fortune  from  composing 
any  but  novella-plots,  381; 
plot  of  Pandosto  structurally 
affected  by  oracle,  422-424; 
of  Menaphon  only  entangled 
and  retarded  by  oracle,  423- 
424.  Activity  of  Providence, 
111-117,  126,  188,  320-323, 
328;  of  Fortune,  in,  113-20, 
123  n.  7,  124,  126,  324-328, 
383-384,  387-392;  of  Eros 
and  of  love,  121,  126,  127- 
137;  of  Causation  in  Longus, 
124-126;  in  Shakespeare 
(Winter's  Tale),  453-456 

Plutarch,  i,  133  n.  16,  209  n. 
75,  386  n.  30 

Poetzsche,  Erich,  463  n.   i 

Poliziano,  excerpt  from  Xeno- 
phon  of  Ephesus,  8,  10  n.  i; 
La  Giostra,  172  n.  45,  413; 
Miscellanea,  8 

Porter,  A.  T.,  246,  481 

Pretended   execution,   316-317 

Propertius,   436  n.    59 

Providence,  in  Heliodorus,  con- 
trols main  plot,  111-113,  114, 
116,  117,  151,  188;  in  Achil- 
les Tatius,  a  minimum,  117, 
119  n.  2,  120,  132;  in  Longus, 
good  ascribed  to,  123  n.  7; 
in  Sidney,  controls  plot,  308, 
320-323,  328;  Fortune  and, 
123  n.  7,  137,  383 

Pseudo-science,  135,  167,  195, 
207-210 

Psychology,  5,  6,  132,  144-145, 
169,  176,  206,  207,  242,  245, 
329,  330,  377,  457 

Qui-pro-quo,  133,  319,  321,  347, 
416 

Raphael,   186,   187 

Realism,  Comedy  and,  157-158; 


524 


INDEX 


in  Achilles  Tatius,  157,  160- 
161 

Recognition,  in  Longus,  121;  in 
Heliodorus,  182,  187,  189, 
410,  427-428,  445,  452;  in 
Sidney,  308,  309,  342,  347;  in 
Greene,  408,  410,  418,  427- 
428,  445,  452;  in  Guarini, 
433 

Reinach,  Salomon,  172  n.  43, 
436  n.  59 

Reiseroman,  164  n.  36,  255,  311 

Reni,  Guido,  172  n.  45 

Repetition,   231-233 

Restoration  of  Child,  in  Helio- 
dorus, 113,  114,  410,  424, 
427-428,  444,  446,  451-452; 
in  Sidney,  309,  342,  347;  in 
Greene,  371,  372,  410,  423, 
424,  427-428,  444,  446,  451- 
452;  in  Guarini,  433 

Retardation,  197-198,  199,  202, 
423 

Rhetoric,  displays  of,  6,  202 
nn.  70  &  71,  204-207,  354- 
355;  substituted  for  charac- 
terization, 143-146,  157;  in 
Melitta,  justified,  155,  156; 
descriptive  show-pieces,  169- 
177:  "  Europa,"  171-173;  less 
excessive  in  Heliodorus,  176- 
177,  222  n.  81;  in  Longus, 
222  n.  8 1 

Antithetical  situations  af- 
fording opportunity  for  dis- 
play of:  Banquet  and  Battle, 
212-213,  360;  Captor  serves 
Captive,  212,  214,  361-362; 
Native  land  more  dangerous 
than  foreign,  213,  415,  444; 
Confession  of  murder  of 
person  still  alive,  217,  317, 
319-320,  406,  419;  Bridal 
and  Burial,  217-218,  221,  256 
n.  3;  Land  and  Water,  218, 
220,  221,  359;  Water  and 
Fire,  218  n.  79,  339-360,  398- 
399;  Living  Tomb,  220,  361; 
Dead  men  the  possessors  of 
rich  spoil,  358-359 

Artificial  and  largely 
verbal  devices  of,  221-235: 


Antithesis  and  Oxymoron, 
221-229,  354,  3S7  &  n.  35, 
358-366,  376-377;  Rivalry, 
227-228,  377;  Conflicting 
Emotions,  228-229,  256  n.  3, 
335,  363,  377,  4°S;  Multiple 
Antithesis,  229;  Balance,  222, 
229-231,  378-379;  Homeo- 
phony,  231-233,  378-379 

In  Euphuism,  256  n.  3;  in 
Sidney,  354-366  (see  Sidney, 
Style);  in  Greene,  376-378: 
"  Wit  and  Will,"  "  Virtue 
and  Fortune,"  etc.,  377;  oc- 
casion for,  furnished  by  For- 
tune, 380-381;  and  by  Love, 
437-438;  similar  to  that  of 
Achilles  Tatius,  392.  (And 
see  Antithesis;  Oratory; 
Style) 

Rhodope  (Rhodopis),  384  n.  28, 
412  n.  45,  415-416  &  n.  49, 
436 

Rhyme,  231-233,  378 
Richardson,  Samuel,  463 
Rivalry;   see  Antithesis;   Rhet- 
oric 

Roderick   Random,    161 
Rohde,    Erwin,    163,    164   &   n. 
36,    248,    252-253,    256,    374, 
462 

Romances,  French,  462,  464; 
Greek,  see  Greek  Romances; 
Mediaeval,  153  n.  30,  311, 

332-333 

Rusticity  ridiculed,  122  n.  6, 
162,  245,  331-332,  433-434, 
445 

St.  Victor,  Hugues  de,  209  n. 

75 

Sainte-Beuve,  170  n.  40 
Saintsbury,  George,  143,  169 
Salverte,    Francois  de,    129   n. 

ii,  133  n.   16 
Sandys,  J.  E.,  237  n.  3 
Sanford,  James,  238  n.  5 
Sannazaro,  334  n.  17,  433 
Schmid,  W.,  246  nn.  23  &  24 
Schwartz,    Eduard,    112    n.    i, 

139  n.  22,  179  n.  51 


INDEX 


525 


Scott,  Sir  Walter,  366  addi- 
tional note,  463 

Sensuous  imagery,  range  of; 
see  Description 

Sentimentality,  4-6,  242,  245; 
rhetorical  display  of,  sub- 
stituted for  characterization, 
i 43- 146 

Setting,  in  Greek  Romances,  162- 
192:  Historical,  vague,  163; 
Geographical,  vague,  163- 
164;  in  Heliodorus  and  Achil- 
les Tatius  used  mostly  to  in- 
struct or  entertain,  but  occa- 
sionally to  produce  real  back- 
ground, 164-167;  in  Longus, 
relevant  and  intrinsically 
beautiful,  166-167.  Descrip- 
tive, excess  of,  a  fault  of 
Greek  Romance,  168;  least 
offensive  in  Longus,  ibid., 
his  pictorial  treatment  of 
incidents,  ibid.;  his  wide 
range  of  sensuous  imagery, 
168-169,  242,  244>  modera- 
tion, 169,  199;  "richness  in- 
simplicity,"  169,  242.  Achil- 
les Tatius's  excess  of  descrip- 
tion, a  rhetorical  showpiece, 
169-171;  Europa,  painting  of, 
171-173;  irrelevancy  of  word- 
paintings,  173-176,  206-207; 
exceptions  have  broader  range 
of  imagery  and  form  part  of 
narrative,  174-175;  failure 
to  distinguish  functions  of 
language  and  of  graphic  arts, 
176.  Heliodorus's  spectacu- 
lar scenes,  relevant,  176,  181; 
omission  of  eiccfrpacris,  177; 
"  pathetic  optics,"  177-179, 
184,  189;  "hieratic  epiphany," 
179-180,  188-189;  theatrical 
conception  and  terminology, 
181-184,  189;  spectacular  en- 
semble-scenes, 184-189.  In 
A  this  et  Prophilias  and  Tito 
and  Gisippo,  251.  In  Sid- 
ney (q.  v.),  334-342-  In  no- 
vella,  very  simple,  370. 
Greene  almost  lacks,  370, 
402,  421,  458;  fails  when  he 


attempts    to    imitate    Helio- 
dorus's setting,  421,  457 

By  means  of  descriptive 
Pathos,  suggests  character, 
179.  Together  with  plot  and 
character,  tends  to  degene- 
rate into  mere  spectacle,  191 

Shakespeare,  King  Lear:  under- 
plot of  Gloucester  and  his  sons, 
from  Heliodorus,  via  Sid- 
ney, 312-313,  366  additional 
note.  Romeo  and  Juliet:  an- 
titheses, 217  n.  78.  As  You 
Like  It:  pastoral  as  episode 
of  urban  story,  433.  The 
Winter's  Tale:  chief  source, 
Greene's  Pandosto,  376,  408, 
445-446,  (Table)  448-450; 
uses  much  that  Greene  took 
from  Greek  Romances, 
(Table)  448-450,  452;  pas- 
toral as  episode  of  urban  story 
'n>  433  >  probably  borrows 
some  pastoral  details  directly 
from  Day's  version  of  Daph- 
nis  and  Chloe,  452;  borrows 
directly  from  Daphnis  and 
Chloe,  probably  in  Day's  ver- 
sion, the  incident  of  the 
Hunt,  125,  452-455;  largely 
rejects  the  agency  of  For- 
tune in  Pandosto,  and  sub- 
stitutes causation  and  human 
motive,  453-456;  391  n.  32, 
458 

Shipwreck,  113,  308,  311,  322, 
389,  392,  393,  409-410,  415. 
444.  451 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  239,  240, 
247,  262-366.  JEthiopica  al- 
luded to  in  Apologie  for 
Poetrie,  308  n.  la.  Mss.  of 
the  "  Old  "  Arcadia  ("  Clif- 
ford "  and  "  Ashburnham  " 
Mss.),  345;  notes  and  tran- 
scripts from,  470-476.  Atti- 
tude toward  Greek  Romance 
both  assimilative  and  con- 
structive, 461 

Arcadia,  long  popularity 
of,  462;  influence  upon  Rich- 
ardson and  Scott,  463;  may 


5*6 


INDEX 


have  helped  to  transmit  from 
Greek  Romance  to  English 
novel  the  gift  of  sustained 
complex  form,  462-464.  An- 
alysis, 262-307 

Plot,  307-328:  grandiose 
framework  from  Heliodorus, 
307-308,  319-320,  328,  366. 
Incidents  from  Greek  Ro- 
mance: shipwreck,  308,  311; 
"  E  r  o  s-M  o  t  i  v,"  308-309 ; 
elopement  under  vow  of 
chastity  to  be  observed  until 
entry  into  kingdom,  309,  319- 
320.  Denouement:  father 
condemns  child,  recognition 
effected  by  deus  ex  machina, 
309;  self -accusation  of  mur- 
der of  person  alive  and  pres- 
ent in  court,  317,  319-320; 
multiplicity  of  charges 
against  hero  gives  exordium 
to  prosecutor's  invective,  317- 
318.  Banished  nobleman 
heads  outlaws,  310;  soliloquy 
overheard  causes  fright  in 
the  dark,  310;  "  Reiseroman," 
with  shipwreck,  piracy,  and 
imprisonment,  311.  Episode 
of  "The  Captivity";  imprison- 
ment by  lover  who  tries  to 
force  compliance;  dissimula- 
tion refused;  311-312.  Epi- 
sode of  "The  Paphlagonica": 
father,  good  son,  and  bad  son 
(jEthiopica;  Arcadia;  under- 
plot of  Gloucester  and  his 
sons  in  King  Lear),  312-313, 
366  additional  note.  Epi- 
sode of  "  Plangus  and 
Andromana,"  compounded  of 
Heliodorus's  stories  of  Ar- 
sace  and  Demaeneta,  313-314, 
348-349,  473-474;  Gynecia 
derived  from  Melitta,  314; 
Pyrocles  feeds  upon  the  sight 
of  Philoclea,  314-315;  rides 
the  waves  like  Clinias,  315; 
rescue  (of  Pyrocles,  of  Leu- 
cippe)  abandoned  at  approach 
of  pirate  ship,  315;  brutal 
caress  (of  Anaxius,  of  Ther- 


sander)  sharply  reproved, 
316;  pretended  execution  (of 
Leucippe,  of  Pamela,  Philo- 
clea, Antiphilus),  316-317; 
double  rendezvous  and  double 
qui-pro-quo  perhaps  sug- 
gested by  Antadis,  318-320; 
and  perhaps  by  Heliodorus's 
story  of  Cnemon,  319-320. 
All  incidents,  from  whatever 
source,  included  by  the  oracle 
in  the  Heliodorean  frame, 
319-320,  328,  366.  Plot  thus 
controlled  by  Providence, 
manifest  in  oracles,  visions, 
etc.,  320-323;  and  using  For- 
tune and  Virtue  as  its  instru- 
ments, 328 

Fortune  has  small  scope, 
324-325;  as  a  vera  causa, 
rare,  and  almost  exclusively 
in  episodes,  ibid.;  Sidney 
free  from  Fortune's  domina- 
tion, takes  intellectual  and 
speculative  view  of  her,  ibid., 
but  condescends  to  contem- 
porary habits  of  speech,  324, 
325-326;  Virtue  and,  326- 
328:  Providence  subjects 
Fortune  to  Virtue,  328;  us- 
ing both  as  its  agents,  ibid. 

Character,  314,  328-330, 
334.  366:  less  prominent  than 
plot  or  setting,  328-329;  per- 
sonages mostly  types,  well 
differentiated,  329,  330;  but 
Gynecia  a  fully  rounded  char- 
acter, 314,  329;  Gynecia 
(Melitta)  and  Andromana 
(Arsace  and  Demaeneta)  the 
only  characters  taken  from 
Greek  Romance,  329;  other 
personages  there  merely  to 
play  their  part  in  Plot,  329- 
330;  Sidney's  interest  in 
Character,  inadequate,  328, 

33° 

Humor,  308,  330-334:  not 
of  character,  but  of  situa- 
tion and  word,  330-332; 
horseplay  and  cruelty,  331- 
332;  contrast  between  courtly 


INDEX 


527 


and  peasant  view  of  love, 
332;  prolixity,  formulas,  etc. 
of  mediaeval  narrative,  332- 
333;  absence  of  misogyny, 
333-334;  sources  of  Sidney's 
humor  foreign  to  Greek  Ro- 
mance, 333,  334 

Setting,  334-342,  366:  imi- 
tations of  Achilles  Tatius, 
334-335;  nothing  from  Lon- 
Sus,  335;  descriptions  of  im- 
prese  and  Emblems,  not  from 
Greek  Romance,  335-337; 
imitations  of  Heliodorus, — 
trionfo,  jewel,  horsemanship, 
337-338;  "pathetic  optics," 
338-342,  esp.  at  the  trial,  a 
spectacular  ensemble-scene, 
340-342 

Structure,  343-353.  "  delib- 
erately recast  in  the  mould  of 
Heliodorus,"  366:  date  of 
first  version,  343-344;  the 
"  Old  "  Arcadia,  the  "  New  " 
Arcadia,  and  the  Arcadia, 
345-347;  contents  of  the  Old 
Arcadia,  347-348;  processes 
by  which  it  was  turned  into 
the  New,  348-353;  a  com- 
plete adoption  of  Heliodorus's 
narrative  method,  353,  366, 
458,  461 

Style,  354-366:  "epideictic," 
354;  oratory,  354-355;  For- 
tune brings  about  tragedy 
and  comedy,  355-357!  the- 
atrical terminology,  354,  355- 
357;  antithesis  and  oxymo- 
ron, 354;  Fortune  brings 
about  paradox,  antithesis,  and 
oxymoron,  357  &  n.  35,  358; 
antitheses  imitated  from 
Greek  Romance,  358-363,  366 
additional  note;  similar  anti- 
theses invited  by  Sidney 
prove  that  he  has  caught 
the  style  of  the  Greek 
Romances,  364-366.  {And 
see  Antithesis) 

Silrayns  Orator,  143 

Soliloquy,    249,    231;    antithet- 
ical,   144,   376;    ending   with 


assumed  name,  142  n.  24, 
310,  414-415;  overheard,  142 
n.  24,  310,  371,  388,  404, 

414-415 
Sophocles,  214  n.  76,  217  n.  78, 

366  additional  note,  386  n.  30 
Spectacle,    150,    176-191,    340- 

342 
Spectacular      Ensemble- Scenes, 

184-189,  307,  340,   375,   376, 

402,  417-422,  446 
Spectacular  Heroics,  150,   190- 

191,  315 

Spenser,  Edmund,   172  n.  45 

Stage-terms,  see  Theatrical  con- 
ception, etc. 

Stepmother,  Amorous,  133,  154, 
313-314,  348-349,  4i5-4i6, 
473-474 

Storojenko,    395 

Stravoskiadis,  Andreas,  134  n. 
18 

Straying  Animal,  nurse  or 
suckling  of  human  being, 
leads  to  discovery  of  human 
being  its  suckling  or  nurse, 
(Longus,  Boccaccio,  Greene) 
371-372,  388-389,  448-450; 
not  its  suckling  or  nurse, 
(Shakespeare)  448-450,  453- 

455 

Structure,  Narrative,  of  Greek 
Romances,  192-220,  234-235; 
and  see  Greek  Romances. 
English  novel  may  have  ac- 
quired, partly  from  Greek 
Romances,  462-464.  Of  Eu- 
phues,Tito  and  Gisippo,Athis 
et  Prophilias,  and  lost  Greek 
Romance,  249-256,  258-261 
(Table),  458,  461.  Of  Sid- 
ney's Arcadia,  343-353,  443- 
444,  461,  463-464 

Mediaeval,  ridiculed,  353. 
Of  Greene's  Arbasto,  from 
Achilles  Tatius,  379,  393;  of 
portions  of  Carde  of  Fancie, 
Philomela,  Ti'llies  Lore,  Pan- 
dosto,  from  Heliodorus,  417- 
429,  444,  452,  456;  of 
Menaphon,  from  the  "  Old  " 
Arcadia,  443-444;  but 


528 


INDEX 


Greene's  own  sense  of  struc- 
ture too  feeble  to  utilize  his 
models,  424,  428,  429-432 
(Mamillia,  Menaphon),  457- 
458,  461 

Style,  of  Greek  Romances,  216- 
235 ;  and  see  Greek  Roman- 
ces, Antithesis,  Rhetoric.  Of 
Lyly,  see  Euphuism.  Of  Sid- 
ney, 354-366,  and  see  Sid- 
ney. Of  Greene,  376-379, 
380-381,  and  see  Greene 

Susemihl,  Franz,  3  n.  2 

Suspense,  193,  197,  198,  199, 
201,  202,  210,  350-351,  353, 
421,  446.  Moment  of  last 
suspense:  brought  about  by 
Fortune,  387,  391-392;  father 
condemns  child  (JBthiopica, 
Menaphon,  Pandosto),  426- 
429,  445,  452 

Tasso,  Torquato,  197  n.  65; 
Aminta,  135,  433;  Gerusa- 
L-mme  Liberata,  220  n.  80, 
432 

Tennyson,    172  n.  45 

Thaiin,  Philippe  de,  209  n.  75 

Theatrical  courage,  150;  con- 
ception of  story,  in  Helio- 
dorus,  181-184,  189,  194-195, 
197  n.  65,  198  n.  67,  446; 
in  Achilles  Tatius  and  in 
Longus,  183  n.  55;  terminol- 
ogy, in  Heliodorus,  181-183, 
189;  in  Achilles  Tatius  and 
in  Longus,  183  n.  55;  in 
Sidney,  354,  355-357',  in 
Greene,  410-411,  417-418, 
42 1-422 

Theocritus,   3,    167,    170 

Theodorus  Prodromus,  Dosicles 
and  Rhodanthe,  10 

Time-arrangement,  in  Helio- 
dorus, inverted  and  obscure, 
195;  in  Longus,  straightfor- 
ward, 199;  in  Achilles  Tatius, 
clear  and  detailed,  200-201; 
in  Sidney's  "  Old  "  Arcadia, 
straightforward,  348,  352; 
in  "  New "  Arcadia,  in- 
verted, 351-352;  in  Greene's 


Menaphon,  straightforward, 
imitated  from  "  Old "  Ar- 
cadia, 443-444 

Titian,   172  n.  45 

Tragedy,  machinery  of,  em- 
ployed by  Longus,  122,  183 
n.  55;  Heliodorus's  affinity 
to,  117,  157,  181-183,  189, 
214  n.  76;  De  Casibus 
Virorum  Illustrium,  associ- 
ated with,  386  n.  30 

Travel,  element  of,  in  Greek 
Romance,  connected  with 
hieratic  element,  esp.  cult  of 
sun-and-moon  gods,  112  n.  i; 
absence  from  Longus,  124; 
saves  him  from  geographical 
digressions,  166;  "  Reisero- 
man,"  164  n.  36,  255;  in  Sid- 
ney, 311 

Trial-scenes,  6,  :8o,  187,  204- 
205,  254,  307,  317-318,  319- 
320,  321,  323,  340-342,  347. 
355,  364  n.  37,  380,  405-406, 
417-422,  446,  452,  456 

Tuchert,  Alois,   198  n.  67 

Two  Friends,  Legend  of,  250- 
256,  258-261  (Table),  311, 
364  n.  37 

T^XTJ,  see   Fortune 

"  Tychomania ",    see    Fortune 

Underdowne,  Thomas,  Transla- 
tion of  JEtliiopica,  8,  159  n. 
33,  164,  173  n.  46,  237  n.  i, 
238-239,  240,  360,  375-376, 
427  n.  52 

Unexpected,  The,  in  Greek  Ro- 
mances, 5  n.  4,  10,  210-235; 
in  Greene,  376,  377,  429;  and 
see  Irrelevancy,  Paradox 

"  Unnatural  natural  history," 
6,  208-210,  377-378 

Urfe,  Honore  d  ,   135 

Veronese,  Paolo,  172  n.  45 
Virgil,   193,  235,  386  n.  30,  413 
Virtu    and    Fortune,    see    For- 
tune 

Vision,   368-369 
Volucraries,   208 


INDEX 


Walden,  J.  W.  H.,  181  n.  54, 
i9S  n.  63 

Walsingham,   Sir   Francis,   344 

Warner,  William,  Albions  Eng- 
land :  "  Argentile  and  Cu- 
ran,"  433,  440,  442-445;  Pan 
his  Syrinx,  433  n.  57 

Warren,  F.  M.,  176  n.  47,  237 

n-  3 
Warschewiczki,     Stanislaus, 

translation   of  Jithiopica,   8, 

237 
Whibley,  Charles,  237  nn.  i,  2, 

&  3,  238  n.  4 

Wickhoff,  Franz,  171  n.  41 
Wilson,  Henry,  187  n.  56 
Wilson,  John  Dover,  250  n.  is 


Wolff,  Samuel  Lee,  250  n.  is, 
403  n.  40,  432  n.  55,  463  n.  a 

Women,  as  leaders,  131,  152; 
superior  to  men  in  Greek  Ro- 
mances, 150;  and  see  Hero- 
ine, Misogyny 

Word-painting,  6,  7;  in  Achil- 
les Tatius,  169-176;  in  Helio- 
dorus  almost  wanting,  177; 
and  see  Description  ;'E/ci£pa<ns 

Wouters,  Frans,  172  n.  45 

Wyttenbach,  D.  A.,  157 

Xenophon  of  Ephesus,  Ephesi- 
aca,  or  Habrocomes  and 
Anthea,  i,  8,  10  n.  i,  254 


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